Imaginary Numbers
by Soul of Wit
Summary: Voldemort fulfilled the prophecy and there is no boy who lived. The war has toned down a bit and the Dark is slowly winning. But, when a boy surfaces who might have the power to bring down the Dark Lord, what will he do?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N - I don't own any of this.**

* * *

Startling green eyes swept the yard from their vantage point high above the normal eye level. Their owner watched with indifference, a well-read book open uselessly in his lap. A warm breeze tickled the teen, ruffling his over grown and wild locks and pushing gently at the book, unable to actually move the page.

The children playing in the yard were careful to shy away from a scene happening not 5 yards from the base of the only vegetation in the area. Two large boys had a younger one cornered, shoving him around. The child tried to escape, head down and never making eye contact. One of the tormentors would push him to the ground and grin triumphantly only for the boy to stand up again, that much closer to tears, and his counter part to imitate his actions, again.

All adults in the vicinity noticeable did not look in the direction of the tree, or more accurately, the bullying. Sighing, the boy in the tree nimbly leapt down, catching the book as it followed, upset from it's perch in his lap. With purpose, he strode towards the aggressive interaction, allowing a small smirk to play across his lips.

Catching sight of the teen drained all color from the tormenters, and they fled to other parts of the scene. The child slowly picked himself up, looking at his savior with glimmering eyes. The smirk disappeared, to be replaced with a nasty sneer.

"Thank you so much, they just wouldn't lea…"

"Don't thank me. Learn how to protect yourself. Nobody else is going to help you." The words came out harsh, biting. The speaker turn away abruptly and gracefully left the boy there. The tears he had so valiantly held back poured down with a vengeance. He was alone.

The rescuer knew how the child felt, knew that his words were not comforting and may not have had any impact; however, they still needed to be said. The green-eyed boy sighed and, tucking his book under his arm, strolled back to his place of residence for the summer, St Harold's Home for Children.

* * *

The green-eyed boy quietly opened the door to his shared room, peaking his head in before entering and closing it quickly behind him. The book is soon stored in the large trunk at the foot of his bed containing all of his worldly possessions. That done, the boy reclined onto his bed, slowly shutting his vibrant eyes, thick black bangs hiding the closed eyelids from view.

After what seemed like mere minutes, noised started to grow louder in the hall.

"Hadrian!" One eyes cracks open.

"Hadrian get out here right now." The scratchy, high-pitched voice of the matron sounded down the hall; reverberating against the empty, gray walls.

Running a hand through his hair, Hadrian Ward sat up and moved off his cot. Arms crossed and back straight he walked into the hall, right into the matron's slap.

His head snapped to the side a little, and a bit of blood from biting his lipped dripped down his chin, but the boy just looked back, completely and entirely un-amused. The woman smirked and began to rail about him being missing, and how she was responsible for his safety (Hadrian snorted at that), and about how much trouble he was in. When the woman finished, Hadrian slowly wiped away the blood with his thumb and gazed at it intently as he followed the matron away, noting idly that summer break ended in five days.

* * *

Platform 9¾ was bustling by the time Hadrian arrived, full of families making tearful goodbyes (first years) and wickedly grinning students (all the others). Hadrian slowly made his way through, careful not to jostle anyone; getting into a fight before the train even left was not a record the orphan wanted to be the proud owner of. Unfortunately, some of the others were not being so careful. Right as Hadrian was getting on the train, a larger, heavier body barreled into the small boy, propelling them both onto the train and straight into a window that separated the compartments from the train hall.

With a defined _oomph_ the larger boy got up and glared that the body he had so carelessly upset. "Watch where you're going, kid. Don't you know who I am?"

In fact, Hadrian did know whom the uppity four-eyes was: James Potter Jr. The boy who lived merely to make everyone miserable, the son an auror (not that Potter Sr. was a particularly good one) and a muggleborn who was incapable of holding a job for more than six months who seemed to think it was his Merlin given right to torment anything that breathed in his general direction.

And, of course, Hadrian was too far below his level to be noticed. Or, at least, known. Hadrian had, in actuality, been "pranked" (tormented) by the so-called marauder (or at least James had tried; Hadrian was very hard to pin down and even harder to predict). Knowing that talking to the bigot would only make things worse, Hadrian grabbed his luggage and shouldered past, nearly sprinting to the nearest empty compartment.

"Well, I certainly know who you think you are… Not that it matters now." With a heavy sigh, the teen collapsed onto a seat and spread out his legs. With a flick of his fingers, the door to the compartment was locked and warded. No one could get in or even see in until they reached the Hogsmeade station. Hadrian was alone, just the way he liked it.

Hadrian was a quite, shy boy. Deadly smart, but quite. After completing his first year at Hogwarts, he had been so completely bored with the curriculum he had tested up a grade, making him currently a fifteen year old in sixth year. The only one, which annoyed his year mates to no end. Hermione Granger in particular could not get over the fact that someone a year younger than her could surpass her brains and take the slot as number one in the rankings. Her howler after O.W.L. scores had come out had been legendary. Or, it would have had it actually reached it's intended. Hadrian had made sure in previous years that nothing magical could come near St. Harold's.

Hadrian smirked in remembrance. He had felt his wards register and repel the Howler, had allowed himself to see the contents. He had wondered briefly what Granger had thought she could accomplish, words were words. Sticks and stones and all that. If she knew what Hadrian was truly capable of, she might have regretted her words, possibly recanted them. Well, she probably never would know. It was a secret Hadrian planned to reveal to no one. He would finish his schooling and disappear to where no British wizard could find him. Or anyone from St. Harold's. That was even more important.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N - I don't own anything remotely related to Harry Potter**

**So, here's Chapter 2. Thanks to everyone who has read this. I hope you like it!**

**Also, if you notice any mistakes, please tell me. I don't have a beta reader. **

* * *

Shaking his head slightly, Hadrian made his way over to the carriages, smiling as the thestrals noted his presence and whinnied softly. Ronald Weasley sneered at the boy, not seeing the dark, horse like creatures. Very few at Hogwarts could see the creatures. Even with the war raging on, most children had been protected. Lord Voldemort had moved his battles more to the political rings in the past fifteen years rather than his pointless attack and retreat methods that had garnered little but fear and death.

As he climbed into a carriage, Hadrian turned around and smirked at Weasley, before ducking his head back in, smiling at the vivid language the action caused; Ronald could make a sailor blush with his vocabulary.

"Harry! How was your summer?" Luna Lovegood ascended into the carriage next, followed by the youngest Weasley, Ginevra. The Weasley took one look and was barely able to suppress a sneer, but Luna lunged at Hadrian, intent on finally getting a hug from the antisocial boy. It was, however, not to be. Hadrian caught her before any hugging could take place and sat her down next to him, nodding at her then attempt to cover up the assault with her new information on the migratory patterns of nargles.

The ride passed in awkward silence, and Hadrian was glad to leave Weasley behind as he walked with Luna to the Ravenclaw table, hoping the Professor Dumbledore would keep his speech short. It was not to be. Forty-five minutes into the rambling diatribe, Ronald Weasley finally called the Headmaster out. Dumbledore twinkled his eyes disapprovingly, but gave everyone leave to eat. This was met with a wave of surprising silence as everyone tucked in.

The rest of the evening passed quickly. The obligatory new DADA teacher introduced himself as Professor Black and noted that the students were to always take him seriously (Siriusly). Hadrian had groaned at that; Luna had smiled brilliantly and clapped, mentioning how many waffguffels the man had at his feet. Hadrian had groaned again and barely refrained from braining himself on the table.

When the students were finally dismissed, Hadrian ran to the tower, nearly bowling over any student in his way. He glared down the guardian statue, daring it to contest his right to enter. It didn't. Hadrian had learned in his second year (of schooling: he would have technically been a third year) that the statue actually had a great memory and that it knew who belonged and who didn't. He had never answered another one of its riddles since.

Hadrian had been given a room of his own once he tested up a year. The official story was that, since he was so advanced, he had earned a room of his own. The truth was that his housemates were jealous about anything to do with grades, and the room was to prevent any unseemly bullying that would put the house reputation to shame.

* * *

Mornings were Hadrian's favorite part of the day. Not many children would wake up early, leaving everywhere empty for Hadrian to explore: the library, secret passages, and the kitchens. A nice 5:30 breakfast was easily securable; Hadrian wasn't sure if the House Elves ever slept. After toast and tea (Hadrian wouldn't touch pumpkin juice if you paid him), the library was the place to be. Madame Pince didn't function at such an early hour, which meant any book was available. It was even possible to convince her to let you into the restricted section, if you got there early enough. It was from these times that Hadrian learned the magics that Hogwarts didn't teach, Occlumency, Legilimency (which was particularly useful when one fell asleep during class and was then called on to answer a question), ancient languages, and alternative forms of magic.

Professor Snape had once caught Hadrian reading a book on snake magic. Unable to read the twisty letters, he had called the boy out on it. The responding series of hisses had made the man so pale he had fainted, and Hadrian had been forced to obliviate him, vowing never to answer in parseltongue.

Hadrian did realize that that particular language wasn't something anyone could just learn. He had tried valiantly during his first year to learn even a sentence, but nothing clicked. However, after James Potter had lured out the basilisk into the Great Hall, right to where Hadrian had been reading and the younger boy had been bitten, the language suddenly came to him.

After the giant serpent had bitten Hadrian, he had paralyzed the thing with a spell and quickly burst it's heart. James then drove a sword through the skull, claiming the kill. Fawkes had by then returned and neutralized the venom, but not before it could change Hadrian. The boy had gained better hearing, more vibrant eyes, and the talent to talk to snakes. Plus a killer (no joke) animagus form, not that that had been discovered for another two years. The Phoenix tears themselves had changed Hadrian, too. He just wasn't sure how. After four years of looking it up, his affinity for wandless magic after the incident still made no sense. Not that that was as confusing as his wand exploding in his hand. Or his trace just suddenly disappearing. Not that he was arguing. Untraceable magic made life a lot easier at the orphanage.

This particular morning, however, Hadrian was catching up on a whole summers worth of newspapers. Nothing particularly exciting. A few scandals, the most prominent being Minister Fudge caught in bed with Dolores Umbridge. Now there was a particularly nasty teacher. Hadrian had only had one detention with the woman, for falling asleep in class, but the words _I must respect my teachers_ was forever engraved in his skin. He had see James', though. He had been made to write so many different lines that one couldn't make out any words, only a series of slashes. Except for the first too words which read _I must_. Nearly everyone had that on his or her hand.

_Serves her right_, Hadrian thought. _I wonder if she'll make herself write something. "I must not be immoral" might be a good one. _

Nothing particularly useful learned, Hadrian went to find an interesting looking book. He continued to browse through shelves until he left for the Great Hall, unable to find a book he hadn't already read.

Upon his entry, Professor Flitwick bombarded him with his schedule. Looking it over, Hadrian sighed. Now that he was taking N.E.W.T. level courses, each class contained students from every house. He had potions with James Potter and Draco Malfoy. The pair was notorious for causing each other trouble and drawing in everyone around them. Add Professor Snape to the mix, and things got lethal. Making a mental note to take a seat in the front row, away from the troublemakers, Hadrian made his way to his first class, Herbology.

* * *

Hadrian felt it was fine to admit to himself that his day was entirely awful. He hadn't had potions, but transfiguration had been living hell. McGonagall had approached the subject of animagus forms, which had James boasting that he was already working on his, the idiot. McGonagall had sighed and told the boy to sit down, a fond smile on her face. _Does no one see the boy as a problem?_

Hadrian had kept rather mum on the subject, not that it wasn't expected of him. Hadrian never talked during class. Leave that to the know it all Granger. He could stay nice and quite and outperform everyone. It was so much simpler. Still, if they had a practical, he would be forced to demonstrate his form, and a thirty foot basilisk was certain to raise eyebrows. And tempers. And blood to the brain. It wasn't a particularly good idea. Which meant, Hadrian was going to have to get himself another animagus form.

He had read about such things, sure. Helga Huffelpuff's diary had detailed her five separate forms and how she had managed them. However, the talent went with bloodlines. And Hadrian was, to the extent of his knowledge, a muggleborn. Not that the Slytherins would let him forget it. Parkinson turned up her nose every time he came within five feet of her, and Malfoy…

That boy could never be called accepting in any broad sense of the word.

At least when the Gryffindors picked on him, they neglected to mention his blood status; bastard, idiot, orphan, haughty, jumped up, and loner were all fine, but mud blood would be insulting to Granger.

Hadrian sneered at the thought of his tormentors. They had not gotten better with age, sadly - not that Hadrian had expected them to. Bullies were all the same no matter where you went, always convinced that they were in the right and that their victims were blight on the order of things. Hadrian thought, personally, it was the other way around. Still, he did admit that those who were bullied needed to stand up for themselves. Nothing would change otherwise, just look at who holds all the power. Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Voldemort, Cornelius Fudge (the latter being one of the bullied), Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, both of the James Potters, and countless others. Smarts have nothing to do with it, except in those smart enough to trick the average witch or wizard that the is not in fact a bully and is doing it for his or her own good.

Hadrian was disgusted by it all.

"Hey! Mud Blood! What are _you_ doing in here?"

Hadrian slowly turned around, inwardly cursing his luck. Why did he have to run into the Slytherins? They were annoyed that he had botched up the _Aguamenti_ spell in charms and had doused Malfoy in freezing water. Funny, but not worth ones life.

"I was just walking…"

"What was that? Speak up. Not quite so bright with no teachers to protect you, now are we, Mr. Know It All?"

He just paled. Malfoy and his two sycophants had their wands out menacingly. While Crabbe and Goyle have little in the way of actual magic, they are infamous for messing up incantations and creating some entirely new hex that culminates with a week in the infirmary. A lovely little place Hadrian had no intention of ending up in on the first day of school.

A bolt of purple shoots past, and Hadrian flinches, narrowly dodging the spell. Thankfully, it just looked like Crabbe has terrible aim, which is true, mind you. Crabbe had been aiming for Hadrian's knee, but the hex ended up at his head. Had it actually impacted, he would have been looking at about a week's suspension and a loss of fifty point. Not to mention detention. With Filch. And possibly Snape once he got his hands on his incompetent house member. Ever since Snape had been obliviated, his attitude towards those who bullied Hadrian had been much harsher.

Slowly, Hadrian raised his hands in the universal gesture of surrender, only to fall forward onto his forearms to avoid being hit in the back. A yellow beam shot past where Hadrian's head had been only moments before, hitting Malfoy full in the face.

"Malfoy!"

The euphonious (not) voice of Potter floated past. Hadrian rolled over and slowly stood up, backing up to the nearest wall and watching in anticipation. Malfoy sputtered from his place on the floor, his skin turning a rather electric shade of blue, matched with his hair, which what losing it's color and falling out. The boy in the shadows suppressed a laugh. The Slytherin pureblood looked like an overgrown smurf. Ronald Weasley was not quite so delicate (he didn't know the meaning of the word). The red head guffawed, choking on what appeared to be his own spit.

The two apes behind Malfoy _growled_ in defense of their master, wands at the ready. In caution, Hadrian erected a shield, not willing to walk away from the scene that promised to be so amusing. Potter struck first, but missed. Soon, a rainbow of choice curses and hexes were flying past, some finding their target, others splashing uselessly against the stone walls. By the time ten minute were up Potter's glasses were waltzing with Weasley's tie, Crabbe and Goyle had their shoe laces tied together, and Potter had a nasty case of warts popping up on every available surface.

Just as Hadrian was about to leave, convinced that nothing more interesting would happed (an he had no desire to get in trouble for a fight he had no part it), Potter got a smirk on his face. _He shouldn't do that. Does he realize it makes him look like a Death Eater?_

"Ducklifors."

Hadrian choked. The spell turns the victim into a duck, something Malfoy would not appreciate. Unfortunately, it was also hard to reverse. Sighing, Hadrian gestured to Malfoy, silently bringing up a barrier around the blond. The shimmering magic solidified just in time to block the Slytherin, saving him from the yellow jinx.

Malfoy turned to Hadrian, a grimnace on his face. He open his mouth, intending to apologize when he sees Hadrian's hands, empty.

"Ward, where's your wand?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N - I don't own any Harry Potter rights**

**Again, if you notice any mistakes, please tell me. Also, feel free to ask it something is confusing. As the author, I might not notice something like that. Thanks!**

* * *

Hadrian gaped, staring at his empty hand. _How could I be so stupid?!_ Wand less magic was not something many people could claim. Add wordless casting to it, and that left possibly Dumbledore and some higher-ranking Death Eaters on the list. A list that did not include fifteen-year-old muggleborns.

The Gryffindor troop stood there, not quite following the conversation. With an aggravated flick of his wand, the blond _stupefied_ the idiots and removed their memory of Hadrian's skill. He looked over at his two thugs, both of whom had managed to knock themselves out, shoelaces still tied together. He turned his icy stare onto the small Ravenclaw.

"You're coming with me." He spun around, expecting the boy to follow him, leaving Crabbe and Goyle lying on the stone floor.

Hadrian took this opportunity to run away as far and as fast as he possibly could. What business could Malfoy possibly want with him? Other than to blackmail him, anyway. The, ah, _brisk jog_ took Hadrian all the way to the Black Lake. Glancing behind him and seeing no followers, Hadrian heaved a sigh. Now he had to figure out a solution to this Malfoy problem. The boy was obnoxious and focused. Once he found something to concentrate on, the boy didn't give it up until he was satisfied. Just look at the way he tormented Granger. The boy couldn't accept that she was better than him.

* * *

The second day of school was as peaceful as it's predecessor was not. Malfoy kept sending him covert looks, but otherwise stayed out of his way. Until potions that is, when he called Potter out on trying to throw illicit ingredients into Hadrian's cauldron.

Snape had gawked at Malfoy a bit before rounding on Potter, a malicious grin of glee appearing, now authorized to deduct point and give detention to the prideful sixth year. Potter turned several colors at that, Hadrian's personal favorite being the chartreuse, before just losing all his color and settling for a glare that was more petulant than anything. Hadrian refused to look at him, but he noticed that Malfoy coolly returned the glare, as if daring Potter to try something else. Noticing Hadrian's look, the Slytherin smiled at him, encouragingly. The smaller boy blinked rapidly, confused. Finally, his partner, Susan Bones, recaptured his attention, giggled at his quick attempt to regain his control. Hadrian settled for a blush. _Could this be any stranger?_

* * *

Malfoy's behavior did not stop. In fact, it got worse. It finally culminated when, in the beginning of October, the blond declared his protection right in Potter's face.

"That's right, Potter. Ward is under Slytherin protection. Try anything on him, and we will retaliate."

Potter stuttered, at a loss for words (which wasn't a particularly isolated incident). Finally, he just composed himself and left in a huff, to the sound of chuckles from all present. Malfoy turned his glare to the entire Great Hall.

"That goes for all of you." Most people just shrugged. Not like they had anything to do with Hadrian Ward. He was a loner.

Luna, of course, could not stop herself from squealing. "You've got a friend, Harry!"

"Luna…" Hadrian whined. "He was just as much a bully as Potter."

"He felt threatened by you. It is not a good excuse, but at least he has one. Potter just does not like you. And it bothers him that you never react. And avoid all his pranks. He hasn't figured that one out yet."

_Not that he ever will. If my wand less magic gets out, they do not need to know I can see it, as well._

Seeing magic was an ability any competent wizard possessed. All it required was focus and practice. It had, unfortunately, fallen out of practice when Dumbledore declared it a form of Dark Magic. Hadrian had accidentally discovered how to do it when he was about eight. Just a flash of color, but it had been there. In his first year he then stumbled across a mention of it in one of his books. He had then refined the technique, and used it constantly to his advantage. No more pranks, no more "accidents", and no more hassles.

Luna was the only person who knew some of his magical capabilities and had insisted that he teach her, which he was only too happy to do. She was like his older sister, always with a kind word and a supportive shoulder to rest on (Hadrian Ward did not cry).

The above mention girl smiled at the boy. Her sentiments were nearly identical to his and she congenially patted the youth's head, ruffling his already messy hair. Hadrian half-heartedly batted at her hand, a small smile peaking out on his face. The display abruptly stopped when Malfoy walked over and stared the younger boy down.

"Enough with the disappearing act. We need to talk."

Hadrian confidently returned eye contact. "Only if Luna comes, too."

"Fine, Loony can tag along. But, do you really want to her to know your little secret."

Luna perked up at that. "Secrets? I love secrets. What secret does Harry have?"

Hadrian groaned. Malfoy arched his eyebrows. Before nodding and gesturing with his head. With the eyes of the entire hall on them, the trio left to find some secluded area to talk. Surprisingly, when Malfoy tried to direct them, Luna took charge. She grabbed a hand from each boy, and ran them to a bench situated along the outside of the castle. While Malfoy gracefully sat down, Hadrian cast privacy and silence wards.

Done, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed with an utter un-amused expression. "So, what do we need to discuss?"

"Your obvious proficiency for magics far above your capability? You are a muggleborn orphan who somehow has skills that belong to bloodlines. Do not think I have not noticed the Occlumency. Or how your wand is fake? I'm not stupid."

"He never said you were. Harry just tries to make it so that people won't pay enough attention to notice his little oddities." Luna giggled while patting Malfoy's shoulder. He looked vaguely repulsed. Still, he turned an expectant gaze on Hadrian.

"Answer me, Ward."

"I don't know." Came the soft reply

"What do you mean, you don't know? How did you even figure it out?"

"A bunch of things happened, which I am really not interested in getting into, but one day my wand burst into flames when I picked it up, and it was either get used to wand less magic or be delivered to the Unspeakables like a Christmas present."

Malfoy looked at him in disbelief, confusion etched on his aristocratic brow. Finally, he sighed and stood up, motioning for Hadrian's hand.

"I won't push, for now. However, I want you to teach me how. It could come in handy sometime."

Hadrian looked Malfoy over and sighed. "I suppose…"

"Oh! He can join the lessons with me!"

Malfoy's head whipped around to look at the fifth year. It slowly turned back to Hadrian with a victorious grin. Hadrian groaned. With a nod of his head, Malfoy gestured to the wards. They collapsed, shocking the two blonds with a display of control. Hadrian bid them both adieu and went in search of his class. Which he conveniently forgot had one Draco Malfoy in attendance. Whatever. A boy was allowed some delusions.

* * *

As the black robed men and women entered the empty room, the first thing they noticed was the chair at the front. It stood on raised ground, led up to be a series of thirteen steps, forcing everyone to look up to it. Behind the throne hung two banners, one a vibrant green with a silver insignia, the other black emblazoned with blood red.

The throne itself was spectacular, carved of the purest white marble. Small emeralds littered the frame, seemingly randomly placed, but that created a shimmering effect. The throne had no cushions, making it uncomfortable, but eye-catching. Just at the top, a serpent was coiled, the head raised, hood out, and ready to strike, fangs on display. It's eyes were rubies, but it's body was the same white as the chair.

Currently it was empty, but an overwhelming magical aura forced the occupants of the room to their knees, heads bowed. Slowly, a magnificent profile entered the room, slowly and with purpose. His robes were the purest black, a color that does not withstand a wash. Soft leather boots made no sound against the stone floor, and pale hands hovered gently at his side. The straight black hair was secured into a ponytail that ran down his neck and stopped at his shoulders. Gryffindor red eyes glimmered as they surveyed the crowd before him.

The proud features twisted into a smirk, marring the silent perfection. With not a hair out of place, the monarch swept into his seat, leisurely crossing his legs and propping his elbow on an armrest, before gently placing his jaw in his hand. With a careless wave of his unoccupied hand, he lets his followers stand.

"So, what have you found to report to me today, my most loyal." The deep baritone sounded throughout the hall, making the onlookers shudder. This was the man who had charmed England, not his snakelike alter ego that sent wizards huddling for protection. This is the man that offered it, who guided the minister into decisions that suited the Dark. This is the man who would rule the entire magic world. This is Lord Marvolo Slytherin.

Hesitatingly, a figure can forward, nearly stumbling from the pressure that Slytherin placed on his followers. Slowly, each person gave their report and a picture started to form. One that showed how much influence this man had, in either of his forms. One man talked of how the Ministry was starting to doubt Dumbledore, another mention the upcoming elections, yet another told of recruitment rates rising. All in all, the Dark was wining, and this crowd would not have had it any other way.

After each person had spoken, the Dark Lord rose gracefully from his chair, standing tall and proud for everyone to see. "You have all done well. Away. But, keep an eye out for any…"

"My Lord!" A woman broke in, dark, curly locks trailing behind her. Unlike the others, she had no mask and her purple eyes gleamed madly. Her entrance was met with a whispered _crucio_. She fell to her knees, screeching. All of those gathered backed away from her writhing form, intent on not attracting their Lord's volatile attention.

"Why, Bellatrix. What could have made you so late? Is it fun to interrupt me? Your Lord? The man who's mark you bare on that pretty little forearm of yours?"

The curse lifted, and between her gasps one could hear, "No… my Lord… Of cou… rse not… Loyal… to you… always."

Lord Slytherin smirked and dismissed everyone but the woman on the floor. Once they were all gone, he descended from his perch and knelt regally before the fallen woman, tilting her head so that their pair could make eye contact. Red orbs flashed dangerously.

"Be careful of what you are about to say, Bella. I would hate to have to punish you again." The cruel intent in the man's eyes belied his words. As did the positioning of his wand at the ready.

Slowly, the Black woman moved to her knees. "My lord," she whispered submissively, "Dumbledore has been given a prediction, that there is someone who can defeat you…"

Voldemort tore away from the woman, his composed mien disintegrating. Bellatrix, however, was not finished.

"However, " the Dark Lord whipped back to attention, "the child could also destroy Dumbledore. The Bane of both Lords, and their Savior."

"Bane and savior? It makes no sense." The Dark Lord whispered furiously. "How can someone do good and bad?" The Dark Lord straightened and pierced Bellatrix with his gaze again. "Was there any more?"

"Only that the child is he whom you least expect, he who wants nothing in return."

The lord took this information sagely, a smile spreading across his features. "Well, then we shall have to find this independent and make his see reason."

Bellatrix smirked gleefully, the cackle hinting at her underlying madness. Voldemort smiled as well, drawing her lips into a light kiss before picking her up and taking both of them from the room. He had a way to win, now. The only challenge was finding this man, who he least expected.

* * *

Back at Hogwarts, things were progressing nicely. Sure, Potter and Weasley hadn't really given up (there had been some spectacular displays of revenge, not the least of which involved Moaning Myrtle and Dumbledore's lemon drops), Draco was no closer to accomplishing any sort of advanced magic, and Hadrian was starting to hate his nickname, but nothing bad had happened. That has to count for something, right?

_Wrong. This is complete and utter misery._

"_Harry_! Pay attention. Am I doing this right?" Malfoy , or rather _Draco_ as he insisted on being called, demanded imperiously.

Hadrian rounded on the spoiled brat, wondering how he had ever had even a measure of respect for the Slytherin. "No. That is wrong. Hand movements are useless until you actually master the way of forcing magic to bend to your will. Also, shouting the spells like a Dragonball character will in no way help."

"Dragonball?"

"Forget it, but you need to relax, force your magic, bend it. Don't strain your vocal cords."

"Easy for you to say, Mr. I can do this without speaking."

Hadrian did not deem that worth a response. Instead, he turned toward where Luna was playing with the bubbles she had conjured. The only spell she could do wandlessly. She giggled as Hadrian popped on of them, finally smiling.

"It's not good to get so stressed. Knock some of the Henians off your shoulders, it'll make you feel better."

Draco scoffed somewhere behind Hadrian. In retaliation, the brunet sent a stinging hex at the idiot.

"Hey! If I can see your hear you say a spell, it's not fair to attack!"

"Draco, It's my back that's turned, not yours."

"_Still… _Someone's back is turned. That has to count for something."

_Not in this lifetime._ Hadrian settled for collapsing against the school wall and groaning. That was becoming a habit. Draco sniffed dramatically and went back to practicing. Over the last two weeks, Hadrian and Luna had come to know Draco very well, pompous drama queen that he was. Not that you could say it to his face. Hadrian had tried that once, about five days in. Only his speedy reflexes developed from years of dodging bullies (Draco included) had saved potions homework. It was also just like Draco to go after the one homework that the teacher would not excuse, Hadrian being the top student and all. The boy was positively wicked. Nefariously inclined. A Death Eater in the making.

Of the last, Hadrian was sure. He had spent more time listening to rumors, and they were running strong with talk about the Dark Lord. The name Marvolo Slytherin also popped up. Hadrian hoped he was not affiliated with Lord Voldemort. The man was running for Minister of Magic, and he currently had the best chance. Also, Hadrian actually listened to what Draco had to say. The boy tried to tone it down in Hadrian's presence, but the boy was a snob about breeding. More than once he had made disparaging comments about Granger and the other muggleborns. When he had started a rant about parents not raising their children right, Hadrian had clocked him. Draco never mentioned parents again.

It was also interesting to note that Draco was nearly always to be found in the same room as Potter, far enough away to avoid suspicion, but still close on hand. In fact, many people seemed to be hovering around Potter. There was always a teacher within shouting range of the boy. They were also being more lenient with him. Hadrian had first noticed it when Potter and Weasley had pranked the third year Huffelpuffs, dousing them in freezing pumpkin juice. Professor Flitwick had caught them, but gave them detention with him (not Filch like was normal if a students misbehaved outside of class) and deducted five points each. Dumbledore then gave a lecture at dinner about taking pranks with good grace, twinkling madly at the Gryffindor table.

Hadrian saw the prank, and the smile, and Flitwick's pained look. It all spelled one thing: anyone not in Gryffindor was going to have to watch their own hide, because the teachers could not do anything anymore. And the pranks had escalated. Lisa Turpin was currently in the Hospital Wing with three broken bones and a concision (who knew brooms were not supposed to be jinxed after they had been charmed to fly? It apparently messes with the spell work).

It had set Hadrian to wonder, was something going to happen? He was not so naïve as to think that Dumbledore favored Gryffindor. He always had, but not to this extent. While suspension would be the punishment for Hadrian if he had jinxed Turpin's broom, Potter would have had a least a month detention, not a "good talking to," and twenty points taken away from him. The whole school was starting to mutter about it, questioning what the Headmaster was after. Well, Huffelpuff and Ravenclaw, anyway. Gryffindor did not really care, and Slytherin was being suspiciously mum on the subject. Hadrian would bet anything it had to do with Draco's sudden stalking of Potter.

* * *

October passed, and Halloween rolled around. Draco had progressed slightly on wandless magic, but was well on his way to a full animagus transformation. Hadrian had refrained from commenting when he had seen what the blond could turn into. He did make an awfully cute squirrel, all brown and fluffy. Hadrian himself, with the help of Luna, had found a potion that would let him take a second form. It had tasted dreadful and sent the boy for another spin. Basilisk and _Phoenix_? Hadrian hoped he could master it soon, because he was thinking he might have to get a third. Turning into a phoenix in the middle of class sounded as bad, if not worse, than the giant, poisonous man-eating snake that could kill people with it's eyes.

Hadrian had yet to show any of his forms to Draco, and the boy could not yet stopped bothering him about it. Hadrian supposed it was because the other boy wanted to laugh at his form has he had already done. Draco vehemently denied this allegation, claiming he just wanted a practical demonstration. He had gotten a "practical demonstration" of a stinging hex instead. He had not liked it as much.

It was the day before Halloween when Draco finally managed to compete his transformation. Hadrian had thought ahead and had acorns prepared. He had also had a light shield prepared. It proved to be a wise idea. Squirrel-Draco had not been amused.

Afterward, they set off together to class, simultaneously resisting the urge to grown when Professor Snape stood at the front of the DADA room. He was standing upright, sneering at the students who walked in, looking entirely put out with the situation.

"Black will be gone for the next three days. He routinely spends them in mourning with his wife, Alice Black."

Alice Black. Widow of Frank Longbottom. Mother of Neville Longbottom, the boy whose name had made the history books. On October 31, 1981, Voldemort had attacked their house, Stupefying Alice killing her husband when he refused to surrender. He had then broken into the nursery and killed the year old child, leaving the entire mess to be cleaned up by the aurors who reached the scene far too late.

Sirius Black had been the first man on the scene, according to rumor, and had comforted the grieving woman. They had been married two years later, and currently had a brat running around in first year, with at least two more in years to come. The girl, Capella, was in Gryffindor (of course) and proclaimed loudly to anyone who would listen that she was James Potter's future wife. That was all Hadrian had caught before leaving her presence. Hadrian hoped the others would arrive after he had graduated.

The lesson with Snape proceeded smoothly, only stopping once when Potter went on a rant about dark wizards and how the lot of them should burn. He then went on to speak about Longbottom's noble sacrifice and how everyone should do the same. The Slytherins visibly tensed at that. As did the rest of the class whose family had darker inclinations. His monologue put Snape in rare form; Potter received a month of detentions and a loss of fifty points. The official reason was lack of respect for the dead. Hadrian figured it might have something to do with the skull and serpent on his left forearm.

The rest of the day passed quietly until the ball that night. Luna had decided that she was going to drag Hadrian to it if it was the last thing she ever did. The ball had a medieval theme, so Luna dressed Hadrian as a knight (with the raven as his sigil), and herself as his ladylove. To finish the ensemble off, she had tied a bronze favor onto his arm. It had strange orange fruits floating in the wrong direction on it. When Hadrian had inquired as to what they were, Luna had merely told him that he needed to pay a visit to her house. He had cautiously agreed and the girl had not stopped smiling since.

In the Great Hall, they met up with Ginny and her date, Dean Thomas. The two couples made their way onto the dance floor together, jumping in when the music quickly started. Luna soon had Hadrian laughing. _Maybe this was not such a bad idea_. Luna smiled and pecked him on the cheek. When they wearied, the two retired to the refreshment table where both were able to procure iced water.

They were about to head back out onto the dance floor when a resounding _crack_ sounded through the hall. The sound of shattering glass soon followed and then the actual glass rained down, a somewhere a girl screamed. Hadrian dragged Luna under a table with him and covered both their heads.

When the glass finished falling, a sibilant hiss could be heard from anywhere in the room.

"Which of you _charming_ gentlemen would be James Potter?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N - Thanks to all of you who have kept reading. It means a lot. Special thanks to Liz Evans Potter, searchingforsanity19, fendenlee, and TheBlackSeaReaper for being my first reviewers! You guys are amazing. **

* * *

Dumbledore's white bushy eyebrows met his fading white hairline. His mind raced. It raced all the way back to a certain Halloween. A day that he considered his greatest defeat, the day of the Longbottom Tragedy. The prophecy that he had mildly disregarded. Sibyl was not the prophet her ancestress had been. Still, maybe it had some value…

Technically, the prophecy had indicated two children, not just the Longbottom boy. Albus had rejected the Potter boy because of his half-blood status. Maybe that had been a bad idea… And so, a plot had formed in the old Headmaster's head, one that would finally allow him to rid Britain of Dark Magic forever.

Little did the man know that Marvolo was thinking along the same lines, getting ready to enact his own plan

And so, Dumbledore had called the Order of the Phoenix to him, to plot and plan about how to go about defeating the Dark Lord. Used to strange summoning times, they all met him in at Augusta Longbottom's manor at midnight. He liked to be a little dramatic, sometimes. He had refrained from music, had he not?

All huddled around him, Dumbledore shook his head at the paltry group. Potter, Blacks, Weasleys (the whole hoard of them), Tonks', Kingsley, Fletcher, the list drones on. Still, they were not anywhere near the Death Eater numbers. And, Amelia Bones refused to give him auror backup, claiming that using one vigilante group to thwart another was pointless. She had even threatened to arrest _him_ if she appealed to him one more time. Dumbledore had left the office in a rush, and no matter what Fudge might comment, he had not _run_. He was taking up powerwalking. It was important to stay in shape once you reached him age.

"Friends, Englishmen, Allies…"

"Cease with the theatrics Dumbledore, _please._" And that was Minerva, leaning against the wall in the corner. She was one of his most loyal, but she did not tolerate foolishness from anyone, students or comrades.

Sighing, Dumbledore rethought out his speech. "It has come to my attention that there might be hope of defeating the Dark Lord." The pronouncement brought on an outbreak of whispers. The Order had a chance to win.

Smiling congenially, Dumbledore raised his hand for silence. It was immediately granted him. "I was accosted in a bar and told that _He who we least expect_ will be the _Bane of the Dark Lord_. "

So what if he skipped a few miniscule details. They were losing too badly for Dumbledore to allow doubt to run rampant among his cannon fodder, _ahem, _soldiers. "In addition," head whipped in his direction, "I believe that I know who the boy is."

The group inhaled as one, hanging on the edge of their seats, totally at Dumbledore's mercy. "I believe that the boy is James Potter, Jr. The other option to the 1980 prophecy."

Alice Black shrieked and fainted. Her husband broke out of his stupor just in time to catch her, shocked as he was at the news. Lily started to wail obscenely. For her son or Neville, no one knew. Dumbledore noted with irritation that it took a lot of the attention off him.

Bit by bit, the attendees slowly regained their composure. Albus allowed himself to smile. "There are many ways to go about this, but we need to make sure that the boy is ready. His teachers assure me that the lad is smart and dedicated."

Again, that was not technically true. He was smart, but all his ingenuity went into planning pranks that backfired half the time. Whenever the boy was called into his office, however, he blamed a student named, Wand? Walled? Oh, it did not matter. He blamed it on some student.

James Jr. was also known for causing trouble in class. Severus, in particular, was always complaining about the boy. Not that Albus trusted the Potions Master. He knew the man was a Death Eater, but he was slowly trying to convert the slippery man.

The mass of gathered people nodded dumbly at Dumbledore's words, ready to follow the man who promised them success and fame. As the old man outlined a course of action, they blindly listened, not even bothering to think about logistics, or how the plan did not make any particular sense.

Slowly, the plan took shape. James had approached the Head Master the day after and revealed what his parents told him (everything). He had expressed his fear and worry. Dumbledore had smiled benignly and twinkled more than normal, dizzying the boy. A new use for the little stars, hypnotism (unfortunately, he will not use them for such). James left his office dazed, but content.

And so, life had gone on. So maybe pranks had escalated. This was a school and they were children. They needed room to experiment and misbehave. Besides, teenagers need to get their rebellion out of their systems as soon as it popped up, or they would not be so easy to manipulate as adults. The incident with the Turpin girl had been sad, but James was more important. He could not risk ostracizing their only hope. Anything (and anyone) was expendable if James was not driven to the Dark Lord.

* * *

**A/N - Sorry this is so short, but it had to be it's own chapter. I'll see if I can put another one up later today. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N - So here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

Potter, _the idiot_ that he is actually raised his hand when the stranger asked for him. Smother giggles could be heard from all over the room. Somewhere, Hadrian heard a distinctive snake laugh. He, himself, was above laughing at stupidity. Or, he just did not want to draw any sort of attention to himself. Hadrian figured he would just use the former as his excuse.

Hadrian did notice that the minute Potter raised his hand, Granger yanked him and the offending appendage down under the table with her. Unfortunately, the damage was done. A swarm of black robes descended upon the table, , only to be rejected by silvery Phoenix. It was soon joined by a cat and a dog of the same metallic hues and vapory substance.

The snake sneered. Hadrian shivered. He had accepted his ability, but never actually had a conversation with one of the scaly creatures. He did not think that they had the best temperaments.

All eyes watched, enraptured, as the Gryffindor Trio climbed out form under the table, joined by Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Black to fight off the invaders. Hadrian wondered briefly if they were Death Eaters or some other faction. His question was answered when a bald man with no nose and bloody eyes stepped forward.

"_You-Know-Who!_" Echoed throughout the hall, only to be met with a particularly malicious smirk. Hadrian shuddered. The man was more serpent than human.

**_"_****So, this is all proud Hogwarts has to offer me in defense of their precious children?" **Hadrian blinked at the blatant use of parceltongue.

He was unable to restrain his hissed answer "**What were you expecting?"**

Quickly, he cover him mouth with his hand, which was followed by Luna's and her perplexed expression. The Dark Lord's head froze a second before he scanned the hall, looking for the fellow speaker.

"**Come out, come out, little snakey. Marvolo won't hurt you. Marvolo thought he was alone. Please, let him ****_sssss_****ee you.**"

Hadrian made sure to avoid looking at the Dark Lord, shuddering from the words. He was glad to notice that he was not alone. Dumbledore in particular looked perplexed, searching the hall as well for the unknown student with the "Dark" ability.

Shrugging, Voldemort, _Marvolo_, turned his attention back to the resistance, six strong against untold Death Eaters. Hadrian could see how this was going to end. Dumbledore struck first, followed soon after by Professor Black. Soon, curses were flying back and forth. Hadrian was scandalized to notice that the so-called "Light" wizards were not being especially careful with their aim. Students were scampering around, trying their very hardest to avoid the deadly, pretty beams.

It got even worse, when a twelve-foot snake started to explore the room, singing "**Come here, little Speaker. Nagini wants to see you. Come here, little Speaker. Nagini will not hurt you, just yet. Come here…"**

Hadrian slowly controlled his shivers, forcing himself to scream when she dropped in his face. In retaliation, the snake _bit him_. Hadrian screamed for real, this time. He could feel the venom, but that, strangely, did not hurt. Actually, it was Nagini who recoiled, her fangs fizzing. She reeled back in pain, screaming. Voldemort moved away from the fight to reach his snake.

The piercing ruby gazed was turned on Hadrian, who was clutching in disbelief at his bleeding shoulder. _Well, this will be a wonderful way to die. The snake could not kill you, so the Dark Lord will. _

Confused and angry, Voldemort tore Hadrian's hand away from the vicious wound and dipped his fingers in the blood; Hadrian screamed again. Luna had retreated to the other side of the space under the table, stunned and eyes wide in disbelief. Slowly, bloody fingers were lifted to a forked tongue before it recoiled and the red liquid was spat out and surprise flashed across snake like features.

"Basilisk venom? Why does your blood have Basilisk venom, _boy_."

Hadrian stuttered, unable to come up with a decent response. Thankfully, he was saved by a large phoenix that flew into Voldemort's face. He batted at the flaming bird, his features twisting, making them even more horrible than they were. Hadrian watched on, his vision getting blurry. Finally, Professor Flitwick joined the bird.

Finally, the rest of the Order arrived, mere seconds before the aurors who then went about stunning and arresting every adult who had no business being there. Luna crept up and caught Hadrian as he fell. Hadrian caught one last eyeful of Voldemort and the Death Eaters escaping before he fainted, blood loss and shock getting to him at last.

* * *

It was to blinding bright lights that Hadrian blinked back into awareness. He tried to move his left hand to shield his eyes, but found that it wouldn't move. Slowly, his right hand came up. Hadrian blinked back tears as the pain spiked. _Hadrian Ward does not __**cry.**_His low moan brought Madame Pomfrey scurrying to his side.

"Stop moving, boy. Do not aggravate the injury, you've lost a lot of blood. How you managed to avoid poisoning, I have no idea. Two other students died of it, and I have fifteen other laid up from it, three of who might have to have limbs removed. You are one lucky child, mark my word. And, to top it off, you lost the most blood. You should be dead."

Hadrian nodded slowly, not sure how to respond. The few times he'd been in the hospital wing, the nurse had never taken a liking to him. Even after the Basilisk incident, she had been rather impersonal, rushing him through a check-up, not even allowing him any sense of modesty that she had afforded the uninjured Potter.

"Harry!" Two voices cried out in unison.

He moved his head to see two blond ones approaching his bed. One virtually flew, the other moving at a more sedated pace. They were followed by a ginger and two dark haired individuals. As they approached, Hadrian recognized Ginny Weasley Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini

Luna seemed oddly cheerful. "Look at who came to see you! You have so many friends, Harry."

Hadrian nodded, a weak smile on his lips. Pomfrey had yet to give him any sort of painkiller. He supposed she was busy with the students who needed amputations. Still, a blood replenished would have been nice right about then. Slowly, the odd group around him started to interact, with Ginny remaining oddly quite. Finally, Blaise managed to break her shell with a well placed joke that had the red head blushing redder than her youngest brother when perplexed (Hadrian had seen that particular shade of red on his face often during tests and potions).

The entire group looked on as the Blaise flirted shamelessly with the Gryffindor.

Hadrian whispered to Luna, "Isn't she with Thomas?"

"Not really," came the reply. "She just needed a date. They have done that since they broke up last year. They are still friends, though. I think Blaise would be good for her."

Hadrian shrugged. Zabini had never gone out of his way to be cruel to him. In fact, Zabini never went out of his way to do anything. The boy was smart, but lazy.

The gentle piece was broken by a roaring weasel. "Ginny! What are you doing with those slimy Slytherins."

Fortunately (or not, depending on you perspective), the lungs seemed to be a family trait, because Ginny replied just as loudly, "none of your business, Ron. Anyways, I'm not here for _them_. I'm here for Hadrian, who, by the way, is a _Ravenclaw._ And, he was injured in the battle. You-Know-Who's snake bit him."

_Ah, there's a demonstration of Ron's red face, right now._ Indeed, Weasley was turning a shade of red that lacked description. His vibrant hair paled in comparison. Granger was standing behind him, and looked outraged that Ginny would speak like that to her brother. Or it could have been that the pair would yell in the infirmary, one could never tell with Granger. The siblings glared the entire time that it took Granger to drag Weasley over to where Potter was lounging, some sort of fiction book in his hands, looking entirely uninjured.

"Apparently, he's suffering from magical exhaustion. He somehow managed to burn the snake, which apparently forced the Death Eaters to retreat."

Hadrian turned his incredulous gaze onto Potter. Not that he was particularly surprised. _Well, at least no one heard that bit about my blood being venomous. That could have gotten awkward to explain. _He looked back at the group and noticed Luna's appraising glances, and Draco's surreptitious looks at Potter. _What is going on?_

Actually, the Dark Lord's attack confirmed for Hadrian that Draco was spying for the Dark Lord. Potter had been under observation for only a bit before the Dark Lord himself crashed into the Great Hall and asks for Potter by name? It reeked of suspicion if you asked Hadrian. Not that he actually thought someone would.

Soon, the group slipped back into their easy familiarity and Hadrian settled back against the pillows. At one point, Draco finally demanded Hadrian receive a pain potion, which had Pomfrey blushing at her negligence before she also administered a blood replenisher.

As the day wore on, Hadrian slowly found himself slipping into a deep sleep, content that he was probably safe in the hospital wing from even Potter's machinations.

* * *

Hadrian woke up to a hovering nurse who told him that he could go, that he was lucky the snake had not hit his heart, and that he would always bear the scar. With that lovely, heartfelt goodbye, he was summarily tossed from the wing. Shaking his head, Hadrian made his way to the Great Hall where his stomach told him dinner was being served. There, his welcoming committee consisted of one blond Ravenclaw who saw it as her mission to give him as many hugs as feasibly possible in a condensed amount of time. Hadrian tried in vain not to flinch.

They were joined by a bouncy red head, who seemed to have taken a liking to him, and a brooding Slytherin who Luna told him was shadowing the red-head. All in all, it was the best reception he had ever received.

Everyone quickly sat down as the Head Master cleared his throat, not wanting to be caught in his twinkling gaze. More than one student had admitted that it made them feel confused and uncomfortable.

"If you look around, you will see that there are students who are no longer with us. Five perished in the unprovoked and malicious attack on our school. To all those who have survived, injured or no, do not forget your classmates. Do not let them have died in vain, honor their memory, and do your best to better our world, thank you.

Before Hadrian started eating, he noticed the gloating Gryffindors and the sneering Slytherins. The Huffelpuffs looked confused and the Ravenclaws detached. He couldn't help but think to himself, _This isn't a group of friends, it's a mixing of strangers. How are we supposed to fight anyone?_

* * *

The Dark Lord paced back and forth in agitation, his magic spiking uncontrollably. The Death Eaters gathered could almost see the physical manifestation of the magic, wild and grasping at anything is could reach. The mass filled the room, pressing against all those present.

While still scared, they all knew why their leader was so angry. Nagini's entire mouth had been burned in what appeared to be acid. Some of it had slipped down her esophagus. The doctor was not sure if she would live. Slowly, Death Eaters finished trickling in, dropping quickly to their knees. Tonight was not a good one for pressing boundaries. While not their fault, they had still failed. The Potter boy was no closer to being in their grasp.

"Who was that boy?! Lucius." The crimson gaze turned on the Malfoy Lord. "Has your son mentioned him?"

"No, My Lord." The answer earned him a painful curse.

"Nott?" His answer and the response was the same.

In this fashion, Voldemort went through all his followers who had children at Hogwarts. None knew who he was. In frustration, the Dark Lord dismissed all of the Death Eaters, drawing blood from those who did not leave fast enough. Finally, he entered Nagini's sickroom.

There, lying in blood and foam, was his only friend. Tears rose unbidden to his eyes, but he banished them before his eyes even got wet. A Dark Lord has no emotions but amused and livid. As the Dark Lord's anger rose, the medical staff started to sweat. They knew that, should they fail to save the snake, they would die in the most painful way the Dark Lord could think of. Voldemort was known for his creativity.

It took hours, but they did manage to save the serpent. When the doctors left, Marvolo sagged against the wall in relief. He let his Voldemort glamour drop, revealing his normal, handsome self. Slowly, he approached the cot that had been brought in, upon which Nagini lay.

She looked smaller on the stark white bedding, stained only by the pink foam that had only just stopped oozing from her mouth. Tenderly, her master checked her mouth. Her teeth were ruined, and her tongue was covered in green burn salves. Even some of the scales around her mouth had melted. The healers had simply pulled those, though. They, like the teeth, could be regrown. It was the flesh that had been in danger. Even with her life safe, it was uncertain if she would ever talk again.

Gingerly, the man picked up his snake, cradling her as one would a newborn. He gently walked the two to his rooms, settling her in the nest that was her bed, and retiring to his own bed. Blinking, he contemplated the significance of that boy. Basilisk venom was rare, valuable. How did it come to pass that a little child would have it flowing through his veins? It was unheard of. Such a thing would kill anyone who attempted it. And the strength! It had bitten through his skin, even took a bit off his tongue. He looked down at his fingertips, the ridges burned away. They pink and red, blistered and raw. The man cursed under his breath. What he would not give to have such power at his fingertips.

He glanced over at Nagini. She was lucky to be alive. Still, she would be out for revenge as soon as she woke up, as would he. Marvolo was the heir of Slytherin, he should be the one with the powers of the king of snakes flowing through his blood, not some unknown little Hogwarts student who would eventually fade into the unforgiving void that was the Ministry of Magic.

Perplexed, Marvolo reclined onto his bed, sighing at the softness and comfort it offered. So few things did these days. He looked at his ceiling, gray stone like the rest of his manor. Slowly, he closed his eyes, picturing the youth he would have to hunt down and kill. The child's days were numbered. No one lived for long with both a Dark Lord and his familiar tracking them down. Still, the eerie green eyes that he remembered taunted him, almost daring him to come. They hovered at the edge of his memory, and Marvolo found he did not remember anything else.

He had been busy, but to only remember one feature. Had the boy cast some sort of charm upon himself? The thought had Marvolo more frightened than he cared to admit. A sort of unpleasantness settled over the man, causing him to squirm. As he tried to fall to sleep, all he could see was the pair of vibrant, emerald eyes watching him back.

* * *

**A/N - In case is wasn't clear, bolded words are in parceltongue. **

**Also, the rating up upped because of the blood and fighting in this chapter, and it will probably only get worse. Sorry about that.**


	6. Chapter 6

The week following the incident dragged out, seemingly lasting longer than the first two months of school had. Students moped around the halls, almost unsure of what to do. The war had never really been real to any of them.

Since that dreadful 1981 night, the war had become less predominant. Sure, some people died, but it was always aurors or some vigilante who had no place on the field of battle. Families often abstained, preferring to raise their children in blissful ignorance. Teachers tactfully did not mention a thing, unwilling to become involved in a discussion about fealty. There were reports, articles after attacks, but they were few and far between. Hadrian had been forced to do a lot of digging to find out that the war never actually ended, it was only on a hiatus.

It was interesting, the boy noted, that several of the biggest political figures now had risen from the confusion that resulted from the lack of war and the populace's demand for an answer, reassurance. And so, a more neutral government had risen, standing taller and stronger than ever before.

Now, though, everything was threatened. There was apparently something to fight about. And Hadrian did not know what it was. The feeling was quite aggravating. Hadrian had never been the ignorant one before. Normally, he had all the answers and everyone else was guessing. Now, though, it felt like everyone else had a secret and did not want to let him in on it. It was disconcerting. When Luna had finally forced him to talk (after days of moping and spreading negativity while insisting that nothing was wrong), she had looked at him with something akin to respect and incredulity, before ruffling his hair.

Now, there was another thing he knew nothing about. His parents. He had been dumped on the steps of St. Harold's merely hours old. No name, no note, no nothing. It was something that he was eternally bitter about, that his parents hadn't cared enough to even name him, forcing him to become one of the fifty variations of "Harry" at his new abode. He had nothing, no inheritance, and no heritage. Well, maybe they did give him one thing, an important lesson. Nobody cares. Sure, Hadrian had Luna, but he was not fully convinced that she was human (therefore making her exempt). Besides, he cared, but made sure to still be distanced. Draco and the Slytherins were new. They had changed their opinion of him once, he was not holding his breathe. They would probably turn on him again.

Teachers were to busy catering to the students whose family they had taught or gone to school with, preoccupied with continuing legacies that everyone else was ignored. Hadrian was used to that. Even in muggle schools, the really smart children were ignored. He had not been spared a second glance by the teachers who later turned a blind eye to the bullying that went on. Grades did not help, and appeasement made it worse. Eventually, indifference was the only option left.

He had been proved right, though. After his revelation and the Nagini incident, Luna was more removed. Although she did not have any more friends than he did, she was spending the evenings alone, rereading her magazine or something. Draco, however, had only gotten more annoying. He had seen the behavior and bullied Hadrian into talking to him. In fact, Hadrian was waiting to meet him.

It was a Hogsmeade weekend, and Hadrian was shivering in the light snowfall. Winter was coming, even this early in November. Out of the blue, A green blur shot past, grabbing Hadrian's elbow and yanking him along. Faltering, Hadrian attempted to keep up, but physical activities were not his particular forte. Eventually, the person stopped. It was Draco.

Hadrian did a double take. _A disheveled Draco! What is the world coming to?_

Draco had always, to the extent of Hadrian's knowledge, been immaculate. No wrinkles, no stains, proper posture. Totally and completely composed, no matter what he was doing. Even during the incident with the hippogriff in third year, covered in blood, he had been poised. Now, though, he was hyperventilating. His face was flushed."

"Draco?"

"Not a word, Ward. Just give me a minute. Merlin, I have not run that fast since being chased in Diagon Alley by my crazy Aunt Bellatrix. She is certifiably insane, you know. I can not fathom why Uncle Rodolphus stays with her. Were it Uncle Rabastan, I could understand. He is not quite at the peak of sanity, either. But Uncle Rodolphus is the most calm, sane person I know. Anyway, Pansy gets these ideas into her head…"

Draco suddenly stopped rambling, looked at Hadrian. Sighing, He released the smaller boy and started walking, the pace brisk and refreshing. Confused, Hadrian followed close behind.

The pair eventually reached a stone bench, somewhere on the pathway between the Shrieking Shack and Hogsmeade. The very air was still, full of magic. The woods behind them made no sound, and the snow fell gently, almost careful not to disturb the scene. With a wave of his wand, Draco cleared the bench of snow and debris before casting light heating charms and warding away anymore snowfall. Done, he settled the two onto the bench, removing his scarf at the new warmth.

"So, what's made you so upset, Harry? And why had Luna been avoiding you?"

Hadrian stared at the blond, attempting to let his brain catch up with the conversation. Draco Malfoy had dragged him a mile through snow to talk about his feelings? He searched the sky in vain for flying pigs. Maybe the early snows was a signal of something?

"Uhhh…" he stuttered.

"Oh, come on. I know there has to be something wrong. You two are normally inseparable."

"I mean… it is not one thing in particular. I do not know. I think the snake attack freaked her out, and maybe she does not trust me. I find it so confusing."

"Well, Its not like you provoked the snake, maybe she was just scared because you almost died. I admit I was shocked. You have a very girly scream."

Hadrian chuckled a little, before whacking Draco's shoulder. It felt strange, but calming. He had never had a male friend before. He looked up at the blonde's features, noting his cheeks were still rosy. How hard had be been running?

The two sat there, chatting until it got dark out. Hadrian was resolved, he would talk to Luna. However, when she saw the two of them returning to the castle at curfew, all the color drained from her face. Hadrian moved toward the girl, but she backed away slowly before turning and fleeing the scene. Hadrian made to follow her, but Draco caught his arm, gently shaking his head.

"Now wouldn't be a good time. Let her think. Obviously, something is bothering her. Just let her think. It'll all be better in the morning."

Draco hesitates for a minute, staring hard at my head, before sighing almost imperceptibly and leaving my there, alone and confused in the entrance hall.

* * *

Dumbledore's gaze bore into the young man in front of him, who merely grinned cheekily in return. _Youth these days_, he bemoaned to himself. _They have no respect_. The child in question, one James Potter was overly confident and a braggart. And, Dumbledore could not even tell him off properly, for fear of sending him into the Dark Lord's clutches.

"So, my dear boy, you believe it was your magic that hurt Voldemort's snake?" The boy flinched at the name. They would have to work on that.

"Yes, Head Master. I saw it attack that student and I just got _angry_. What is You-Know-Who doing here, trying to attack innocents. I realize that people are being a little more lenient towards dark things, the fools, but this is too much. Eleven students are dead! Only three Death Eaters were captured, and absolutely no one of value. Just paper pushers at the Ministry. They do not even know where You-Know-Who's hideout is. A stone room! Really? And to make it even better, my _father_ is in a holding cell for daring to protect defenseless children while not on call. It's crazy!"

Dumbledore hummed to himself and grabbed a lemon drop. Wordlessly, he offered one to the boy who took one, nodding his head in gratitude. "Now, my boy, calm down. I will have it all sorted out shortly. I'm sure Madame Bones will see reason. After all, your father is an auror. As for the others…"

"I don't care about them. They do not have to defeat a Dark Lord. They'll just get in my way."

"Ahem. Yes, well then. I shall see what I can do. On another note, did you see which student spoke parceltongue? I would hate to have a spy of the Dark Lord right under our nose that we know nothing of."

"What does it matter? It probably one of the Slytherins, and they are all under watch anyway. I guess it is creepy. Can you imagine what it must be like to have such a disgusting ability? I hate snakes, metaphorical or otherwise."

Dumbledore took a moment before replying, trying to wrap his brain around the fact that James Potter (either of them, really) knew such a complicated word. They were talented, certainly. Ceaselessly loyal, but major thinkers? Not in particular.

"Yes. Imagine, the poor child never stood a chance, born Dark. Still, we must find him, if only to offer our help. Everyone deserves a second chance."

The boy sneered at that, but wisely held his tongue. Dumbledore might be relentless, but lives were not something just to be played around with, as Voldemort seemed so keen on doing.

They sat there in companionable silence before a bell rang, informing Dumbledore that he had a visitor. With a smile, he shooed the boy out of his office. As the door opened and James left, his jaw dropped. Standing there, in all his handsome glory, was Tom Riddle, Lord Marvolo Slytherin. The lemon drop fell to the floor. Slytherin wrinkled his nose.

"Good to see that old age has been to _kind_ to you, Professor."

Dumbledore recovered quickly, masking his shock. "And you, Tom. Why, you hardly look seventy."

"It's merely magic, Professor. With enough of it, it responds to your desires. I have merely stopped aging. But, you know that. You should be powerful enough to do it, too."

"Well, my boy, age is nothing to fear. Death comes to all those, waiting or not."

_And it makes you look wiser_, Marvolo remarked snidely in his thoughts.

The two glared for a minute, trying to figure the other out. Finally, Marvolo broke the stare down, allowing a malicious smiles to come onto his face.

"Well, Minister Fudge has commanded me to be stationed here for a week, in case Lord Voldemort decides to attack again. I told him, in rather informal language, that it was a high improbability, but he would not have it. So, do you have rooms, or must I secure my own lodgings?"

Dumbledore blinked out of his stupor. Riddle was going to be on campus for a _week!_ Despite all his efforts, Dumbledore had been unable to convince anyone that the man before his was actually the Dark Lord. He himself denied it, but aside from the unknown students, no one in Britain spoke the language of the snakes, which was condemning in and of itself. His eerily gorgeous and young appearance was another indication of arrogance and Dark Magics, too.

"Are you sure, Tom?" The man winced. "I would not want to disturb your schedule."

"The Minister of Magic determines my schedule. Besides, a week vacation sounds nice. Perhaps you would let me lecture in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class? It was always my specialty."

Dumbledore's inward response was far to explicit to even record. The gist of it was _No._ Several references to choice destinations and well-known people were involved. And pork. Perhaps the Head Master was hungry.

Marvolo watched on in glee as the man opposite him seethed. It really was too much fun to taunt the man. He knew that Dumbledore would never let him in a classroom if he had a choice. Not that he actually had one. As the heir of Slytherin, if Marvolo wanted a job, he could take one, forcing whichever teacher he was replacing out of the school. He had not resorted to that, yet. Now, however, the plan had benefits. Not the least of which was all the fun he could have teasing the Head Master.

* * *

Hadrian was sitting down for dinner, alone, when Professor Dumbledore and a man he recognized as Marvolo Slytherin entered the room. Seeing the man's face, even though this version had chocolate eyes, something clicked. The Dark Lord had called himself Marvolo, in _parceltongue_. Marvolo Slytherin, heir of Slytherin, would be a _parceltongue_. The Dark Lord was running for Minister of Magic. He could not help it, he chuckled. Everyone around him looked on in horror, as if he had gone mad. Maybe he had. It was a better explanation than the reality.

He quickly turned his head to look at his empty plate as the Dark Lord surveyed the room. This was bad, very very bad.

Dumbledore clapped his hands, and silence fell across the room. All eyes turned to the pair: one dotty old wizard in clashing robes and quite possibly the most handsome man any of the students had ever seen. James Potter got a little red in the face when Hermione whispered that little bit. Capella was quick to reassure James that he was the most handsome. Ron just got a little red.

"Students," as always Dumbledore commanded everyone's attention. "Lord Slytherin has been ordered to watch over Hogwarts in case of a second Death Eater attack, I expect you all to treat him with the highest regard. Show him the true nature of Hogwarts."

There were several students who had to muffle snorts at that. Hogwarts was nothing but a breeding ground for bullies and favoritism, but Hadrian did not think that was anything particularly new, if Snape's memories were anything to go by. Indeed, Marvolo was amused by the pronouncement, as well. From all reports, only the Gryffindors were given the full opportunities that the school had to offer.

Looking away from the doddering old man, he resumed his search of the students. There were so many with green eyes. That the child was a parcelmouth suggested a Slytherin, but he was familiar with most of the older students there, and the child was older. Marvolo thought that the boy had been small, but the eyes that haunted him were quite intelligent, almost as if they knew too much, been forced to grow up far too quickly. Intelligence indicated a Ravenclaw, but they were not particularly known for their bravery.

It might have been a Gryffindor, but a Gryffindor who could talk to snakes would not fit in. That went doubly so for Huffelpuffs. All in all, it made no sense. Stifling a growl of agitation, Marvolo followed Dumbledore up to the teacher's table where he grabbed the seat next to the Head Master.

To his utter pleasure, the chair changed upon his choosing, turning it into a simple throne, carved solely out of emerald. Dumbledore's face turned a fascinating color of white that could not possibly be healthy for anyone, much less a man of his age. The students soon started stuffing their faces, a tiresome task that was even less pleasant to watch. A red headed lad, whom Marvolo could only assume was a Weasley, seemed to have made a bet with himself about how much food a human jaw could take before it broke. It was quite enough to make Marvolo queasy.

Thankfully, the Slytherin table was much more composed, each of them having been ingrained with the proper etiquette since birth. The Malfoy brat in particular was quite graceful. The transfer of food from the plate to his mouth was seamless, one almost could not follow it.

Marvolo recalled a time when he did not possess such skill, but he had quickly remedied the deficit, making sure that his housemates had no extra reasons to demean him. Not that it had lasted for long, anyhow. His obscene power had quickly set the structure to right. By the end of his first year, they had all been as they should be, bowing and scrapping at his feet.

It was strange to think that they were all dead now, their grandchildren taking the stops they had once inhabited so long ago. Were Marvolo one for nostalgia, he might even have wept slightly. However, being a Dark Lord and all, he only scoffed, and hoped that these children had the power that their parents seemed to be lacking. Magic was dying out, and Marvolo was determined not to let that happen.

* * *

Dinner moved slowly for Hadrian. His endless endeavor to not look at the Dark Lord was taking it's toll. He could have sworn that he felt the gaze on his shoulders before it moved on. He forcible held back the sigh of relief. It would not do at all to bring the attention upon himself, when he was trying so hard to be anonymous. Besides, if the Dark Lord realized who he was, he could say goodbye to all his plans and hello to a nice, new coffin. Not that he could afford one. Maybe his friends would all pitch in for one. After all, it's not everyday that one dies.

Hadrian was appalled at his own humor. And decided that thinking about death was not the best way to avoid it. He turned to his dinner, pasta of some sort in a pinkish sauce. It was good enough, better than anything the orphanage had ever served, but Hadrian preferred the more simple meals, like a simple meat and bread. Hearty and filling, while almost universal in preparation. The elves at Hogwarts always overcooked the food, making pasta soggy and sauces flavorless.

When dessert was finally over, Hadrian was one of the first to leave, nearly running out of the hall. _I have to find somewhere private, somewhere the man will not look_. The only place that fit the bill was Ravenclaw tower, but Luna would be there, and Hadrian, personally, was not ready for that interaction just yet. Running through his mental list again, Hadrian settled on one of the castle spires, a place he had found while running away from Potter and his gang. It was remote and hard to get to. Even Luna did not know about it. Just now, it sounded like a little bit of heaven.

* * *

Dinner moved slowly for Hadrian. His endless endeavor to not look at the Dark Lord was taking it's toll. He could have sworn that he felt the gaze on his shoulders before it moved on. He forcible held back the sigh of relief. It would not do at all to bring the attention upon himself, when he was trying so hard to be anonymous. Besides, if the Dark Lord realized who he was, he could say goodbye to all his plans and hello to a nice, new coffin. Not that he could afford one. Maybe his friends would all pitch in for one. After all, it's not everyday that one dies.

Hadrian was appalled at his own humor. And decided that thinking about death was not the best way to avoid it. He turned to his dinner, pasta of some sort in a pinkish sauce. It was good enough, better than anything the orphanage had ever served, but Hadrian preferred the more simple meals, like a simple meat and bread. Hearty and filling, while almost universal in preparation. The elves at Hogwarts always overcooked the food, making pasta soggy and sauces flavorless.

When dessert was finally over, Hadrian was one of the first to leave, nearly running out of the hall. _I have to find somewhere private, somewhere the man will not look_. The only place that fit the bill was Ravenclaw tower, but Luna would be there, and Hadrian, personally, was not ready for that interaction just yet. Running through his mental list again, Hadrian settled on one of the castle spires, a place he had found while running away from Potter and his gang. It was remote and hard to get to. Even Luna did not know about it. Just now, it sounded like a little bit of heaven.

The spire was chilly and brisk, but nothing Hadrian could not handle. There was a bit of snow, but it was quite easily cleared off. At the start of the cone shaped roof, there was a band that stretched all the way around the base, about four feet in width that was perfect for sitting on. It was there that Hadrian made his perch.

A conjured blanket nullified the effects of frozen stone, and heating charms did for the weather. Hadrian pulled out a novel in Gobbledegook, intent on forgetting everything.

And so, time passed. The sun set rather quickly, taking with it all the warmth of the day. Hadrian didn't notice for the warming charms. Only when it got too dark to make out the characters on the page did he finally emerge from the book. Cross with himself, he packed up. The loss of heat was quite shocking, and the boy hurried back into the castle. It was not yet at curfew, but few students were wandering around. Hadrian was nearly at Ravenclaw tower when a commanding voice ordered him, "Stop."

Hadrian froze, unsure of what to do. He had not broken any rule (today at least). Slowly, he turned to face the man, nearly fainting at the sight that greeted him.

The Dark Lord was striding purposefully towards him, a confused look on his face. With a firm grip, he tilted Hadrian's face upwards to meet him eyes before jerking it away and cursing.

"Meet me in my office after class, tomorrow." A slip of parchment was thrust into the boy's hands, before the elegant man swept away, muttering under his breath.

* * *

**A/N - Okay, I hoped you enjoyed the chapter. As a warning, updates have been extremely frequent because I've had some free time, but that isn't really the case anymore. So, they'll be coming at least once a week, but I can't promise anymore than that. They will, however, be longer. Thanks for your understanding!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N - Okay, new chapter. It's kind of long, so enjoy. Also, I was wondering if the switching point of views was bother some people? I like having different people's thoughts, especially Marvolo's, but please tell me if it's just irritating. Thanks!**

* * *

It had, however, taken forever to figure out who the boy was. Small Ravenclaw was apparently a very broad description. But when Marvolo had mentioned the especially vivid eyes, Snape had gained a contemplative look. The Malfoy brat had spoke up, mentioning a name: Hadrian Ward.

The name was disgustingly muggle. And the child was. A mudblood orphan. Marvolo was almost tempted to dismiss the child from his list, but stopped. Eyes that color could not possibly be muggle. He was of an age, after all. It was possible that he had been left alive after his parents had been killed in a raid during the war. They could have been in hiding, killed, and muggles found the brat.

Another option was a muggle woman had been impregnated by some unknown wizard and wanted nothing to do with the babe.

The thoughts made Marvolo feel better. A Dark Lord would not be beat by some simpering muggle born child. His next course of action had been to find out anything about the boy, because he was no where to be found. The Malfoy child had been interestingly helpful in that regard. He was the top sixth year, bumped up a grade. A veritable genius. Better yet, he had no ties to the light. No one to miss him or investigate his disappearance.

A plan was starting to take shape in his mind as he headed to his rooms and summoned Nagini. The snake had made a brilliant recovery and was now out for blood. The only scarring was on her tongue, but Severus claimed to have a potion that would remove it. Nagini wanted to put it off until the boy was dead. Marvolo acquiesced, as long as it did not cause her discomfort. From the way she attacked her meals, he was inclined to believe the snake was just fine.

So, with the snake on her way over, Marvolo set out in search of the boy. He was not in Ravenclaw tower (it was far before curfew for sixth years), he was not in the library (Malfoy assured the Dark Lord that Ward had his hiding spots), he was not in the kitchens (where was he?) and the boy was not in any alcove that Marvolo had searched through, which were numerous.

Finally, when he was about to give up, coming back to Ravenclaw tower one last time, he saw the boy, walking along like nothing was wrong in the word, little bits of snow melting in his hair. Plastering on a smile, he called out. The instructions were brief and to the point, as he could barely control his outrage. Where had the boy been hiding. He quickly passed over the note he had drafted, to throw off Dumbledore and stalked away, wanting nothing more than a glass of fire whiskey and his bed.

* * *

After being accosted in the hall, Hadrian returned to his dormitory, ignoring the students there who ignore him back. He paused briefly before entering his room, hearing sobs from behind the thick door. Knowing that only two people had access to the room (and Flitwick was not one for crying to students), he entered softly. Just as he suspected, Luna was there, sobbing her heart out. Hesitantly, he gathered her in his arms. She took it from there, throwing herself at him, clutching his robes, and sobbing into his shoulder. Even when the lingering pain from the snakebite flared up again, he did nothing. They stayed like that a while, rocking back and forth. The only sounds were tears and soft reassurances.

* * *

The two awoke the next morning to rumpled clothing and rather horrifying behead. At least, Hadrian did. Luna was sitting on the edge of the bed, legs swinging softly and humming a nonsensical tune that was strangely reassuring. When she felt the bed move, Luna looked back at Hadrian, a blinding smile on. Hadrian, however, noticed the lingering pain. They sat like that, staring each other down, unsure of how to move. Carefully, awkwardly, they embraced again. It was caring and warm; it as exactly what the pair needed. Finally, one of them started laughing, bringing the other over the edge as well.

It was only rumbling stomachs that sent the two scurrying to get ready. Dousing his head, Hadrian growled at his unruly hair. It could not be tamed. The veritable bird's nest seemed determined to stick out in as many possible directions as it could find, like searching for some hidden beacon. Or like he had just been electrocuted. Giving up, he let it go. No use in fighting a losing battle.

Luna was waiting outside his door. Upon his arrival, she grabbed his hand and the two walked to breakfast, comfortable. Luna never volunteered what had bothered her so, but Hadrian did not ask. He was scared she would leave again.

As they entered the Great Hall, Draco stood up before his face paled and he sat down, pointedly not looking at the two of them. His abrupt seat had his Slytherin friends glancing up. Pansy looked stunned, Blaise somewhat angry. At this, Luna looked contemplative. Hadrian ignored it to look up at the teacher table.

There he was, Marvolo Slytherin. He sat there, full of pride and self-assurance. He slathered some sort of jam on toast while chatting with Professor Vector, while still keeping a wary eye on the students. When he saw Hadrian, he smirked, all kindness gone. The handsome glow faded for a second, and his red eyes peeped out. Hadrian swallowed, terror running rampant through his body, the blood chilling in his veins. _I am dead. _

Luna squeezed his hand, unsure of what had caused Hadrian to lose all his color. He forced a smile, knowing it did not reach his eyes, before heading over to the table. Luna filled up plates for the both, but Hadrian could not do anything but stare at the food; he suddenly was not very hungry.

Throughout the day, Hadrian could not figure out if it went fast or slowly. It was exceedingly normal (Potter exploded a cauldron in potions, Weasley transfigured something unspeakable that made McGonagall livid, and there were three fights between different houses), but that set the poor boy on edge even more. When classes eventually ended, Hadrian felt like he was about to be sick. He even had to detour to a bathroom to retch. He could not put it off forever, though. He wearily made his way to where the minstry official was staying, somewhat ready for his fate – or at least he thought so.

* * *

For Marvolo, the day passed rather quickly. Nagini had made herself a nest under his desk, but was currently out hunting. His only instructions had been to stay out of the school. He was going through Ward's old school records. Impeccable, to be sure, but they lacked anything else. There was nothing personal in them. He had been going through others, too, and some bore a resmeblance. However, others (Potter's) were full of glowing remarks from teachers and praise for the boy. Someone had put in a lot of work to make Potter and the rest the 'Light' children seem exceptional, and the others seem ordinary. He sneered at Dumbledore's more subtle influence.

Back on topic, Ward's records were rather sparse. They documented his grades, his O.W.L.'s, hospitals visits, and the boy's guardian, Gringotts. That gave Marvolo pause. Normally, the Head Master was the magical guardian of muggle borns, but he shared custody with their parents. In the case of orphans, he took sole responsibility. Marvolo had never come across the bank serving as anyone's guardian, as Goblins were counted as sub-human. One of Hadrian's parents would have had to especially delegate them and that was a lot of paper work. Something wasn't right.

It was a timid knock on his door that broke his musings. Allowing a cruel smile to spread across his features, he opened the door with his magic, allowing the pressure to crowd the room. It was sufficiently intimidating.

The boy stepped in, green eyes blazing. Hadrian refused to look down. Marvolo took a minute to appreciate the sight, never having seen such a moving image. The boy was shaking, true, but he did stand there, defiant. His eyes held such life and his hair seemed to hold it, too, flying in every direction. His own magic had created a bubble, fending off Marvolo's more sinister variety.

The two stared at each other as the door clicked shut. The pressure in the room slowly deflated.

"You can relax, _boy_. I won't kill you right now. That would be foolhardy of me."

Relief coursed through the small body, and Hadrian fell to his knees, his body shaking. Tears threatened to spill, but he held them back. Marvolo observed the weakness with judging eyes. Irritated, he moved forward and swiftly pricked the boy's arm, drawing a vial of blood. He let the boy topple forward when he was done, dizzy from the loss of blood.

"Collect yourself, mudblood. You and I are taking a visit to Gringotts."

Hadrian looked up, blinking. _What?_ He was rudely grabbed and hauled through the school be the man, unsure of anything. Professor Dumbledore met them at the entrance hall, looking confused and slightly offended.

"Lord Slytherin! What are you doing? Unhand that student immediately!"

"Professor, please stand aside. Mr. Ward and I are paying a visit to Gringotts, who you seem to have failed to notify that their ward is attending Hogwarts."

"What are you talking about?"

Rolling his eyes, Marvolo shoved the folder at the old man, watching the confusion spread across his entire face. Dumbledore did not have a choice. As his legal guardian, Gringotts had to be informed immediately.

"Very well, I shall accompany you." With a snap of his fingers, Dumbledore summoned a house-elf who he ordered to inform McGonagall of the situation. The ears flopped ridiculously as the thing nodded and disappeared, presumably to follow orders.

* * *

Hadrian gasped in air as the three landed on the white steps of Gringotts. He toppled forward, causing Marvolo to sneer and Dumbledore to look up towards the sky. He was then unceremoniously heaved to his feet and carted into the intimidating building. Marvolo informed the Goblins that he wished to speak to the manager in a private room. It was quickly granted to him.

The room was small, but comfortable. The walls were the same white marble as the rest of the building, but the table was warm oak and the seats were cushioned and soft. Inside, the manager was already waiting, that unreadable Goblin expression prominent on his pointy features. He graciously gestured to the seats in front of him, which were soon taken, Marvolo forcing Hadrian into the middle one.

"My name is Faln. How can Gringotts help you gentlemen this afternoon?"

Marvolo spoke up, the only one who actually knew what he was doing. "I was looking through Mr. Ward's records this morning and noticed that Gringotts is his official guardian. Considering of what I know of his background, you have not been informed." He sent a falsely sweet smile to the seething Head Master who, despite himself, looked interested.

The Goblin blinked at that, turning his piercing gaze onto the little wizard. "Mr. Ward? Was it? Would you please extend your hand." The small appendage was extended slowly.

Hadrian paled considerably as a long silver knife was taken out of the desk along with a piece of pink parchment. The Goblin grasped his hand is a crushing grip, exposing the palm. Without so much as a warning, he slid the blade across his palm, bringing up a line of beaded red. The blood was then smeared across the paper. Hadrian's hand was released and the boy cradled it against his body. Marvolo scoffed and tapped the hand with his wand, healing the minor wound.

All three then watch, enraptured, and the color of the parchment slowly changed, from pink to white. Faln drew in a breathe before flipping the page over. On the reverse side, a long family tree splayed out. Dumbledore sucked in a breath. At the end of the paternal side, lay the Gryffindor crest. He looked at the bottom. Where Hadrian's father was lay a name, James Potter Sr. Oh no. This was very bad.

Marvolo had merely glanced that the paternal side in interest, mildly shocked at what he had seen, but it was the maternal side that intrigued him. There he saw a name he hadn't heard in a very long time, since her funeral nearly sixteen years ago, Rebecca Fawley. His mine raced, remembering the day that Hadrian had been found at the orphanage steps, May 16. The very same day that Rebecca died.

Three pairs of eyes bore into the small boy who stared at the piece of paper with wide eyes. He had family. _James Potter_ was his older brother. He had a father! His mother had two dates next to her name, she was dead. The though reassured something in Hadrian. The date told him she most likely died in childbirth. She hadn't thrown him away. That Potter Sr. had brought no new information to Hadrian's mind. A man who could father a son like his would have no problem abandoning a bastard.

Fawley. The name raced through all four minds, three knowing the significance. The Fawleys were purebloods of the highest rank. Strongly neutral, they were known for their brains. Rebecca had been the last of the line, which meant Hadrian would inherit everything. Rebecca had left a will with Gringotts. When the Ministry had tried to confiscate her vaults, they had been turned away, told that her heir had yet to lay claim. The Ministry had not put up too much of a fight. The Fawleys were not that rich.

Marvolo also happened to be privilege to a tidbit about the Fawley line. They were known, in certain circles, for their odd magic affinity. It would help explain the boy's blood and abilities. They were also known for their gift with magical creatures, likely why Rebecca had given guardianship to the bank, she was good friends with the creatures and would raise the child properly. But, it seemed someone had stopped that and left the little babe at a muggle orphanage. Suddenly, it struck Marvolo. The boy was a pureblood. His status was better that the actual Potter heir's. He could not hold back a laugh that had Dumbledore sweating and Hadrian flinching.

Faln was still staring at the boy, noting the features of the boy. The slight build was very much a Fawley characteristic, though perhaps not to such an emancipated extent, but that could be attributed to the orphanage he assumed the boy had been put in. He eyes had a similar color to Rebecca, though hers had not been quite so full of magic and life. The light color of his skin was most certainly not a Potter trait, but the hair was, as was his more angular face.

He was trying to relate this small child to the woman he had known, who had trusted her unborn child to him. That thought froze in his head. _This _was the unborn child that they had all thought dead or lost. This was the young man who he was responsible for. Slowly, he stood up. All eyes on him.

"Well, this has been enlightening. Before we can allow young Hadrian to accompany the both of you back to Hogwarts, be must be acquainted with his heritage. Lord Potter must also be informed. If you two would wait here… Hadrian? Follow me."

Hadrian quickly stood up and followed the Goblin out of the room. Dumbledore attempted to do the same but crashed into the door, finding out that he could not actually leave. He blinked stupidly at the barrier.

"You won't be able to leave until the Goblins allow you to, Professor. They don't want you warning Potter in advance."

"He must be informed at once! Imagine, withholding his son from him!"

"I believe they are not yet sure if Potter took the boy from them and are merely being cautious. Besides, I'm sure they'll owl him shortly."

Dumbledore grumbled a little more before settling down, panic racing through his mind. This situation needed to be handled gently, before certain people were publicly embarrassed.

* * *

Hadrian glanced around anxiously as he followed Faln down the hall. They ventured deep into the building. The white marble soon faded into a dark hall with dim lighting. The Goblin seemed just fine, but Hadrian stumbled. Finally, they stopped outside a great iron door. In place of a doorknob, there was only a tiny spike. Faln pricked his finger in a rather sleeping beauty-esque manner. The door creaked open a bit, leaving a crack small enough for the both to slip in, each being only a little over five feet.

Inside, groups of Goblins milled around, far more comfortable than any human (wizard or normal) had ever scene them. They stared openly at Hadrian, before surprise and knowing dawned. They let him travel unhindered and Faln led him through the room to a small chamber that had a black ebony box. This time, Hadrian was required to prick his finger on the spindle. Were the situation not so serious, he would have been tempted to swoon.

The box snapped open, revealing a scroll of paper a leather bag with a neck strap. The Goblin handed him the scroll before closing the box and giving him that as well. "Here. The other items can wait."

The picture was a pencil sketch, well done but a little smeared. The drawing was of a older woman, stretch marks and crows feet just starting to show, but it didn't make her any less dazzling. Her smile was nearly blinding, even in charcoal grey. Long hair flowed in gentle curves past strong shoulders and down a firm torso. She wore a loose dress and swept down to her feet, the drawing capturing her twirl. The hands were resting against her abdomen tenderly, protectively.

"Your mother was a great friend of the Goblins, as your family has been for decades. This was drawn just after she discovered she was pregnant."

This time, Hadrian could not stop the tear that trickled down. He had gone from ready to die to having a family, even if they dated him, in the span of an hour. It was almost too much. He clutched the paper to his breast, careful not to wrinkle it. "Could I meet the person who drew this?"

"Of course," came the soft reply. The paper was put back in the box, which was placed in Hadrian's hands. Then, the two headed out into the hall. Faln took the lead again (which was fortunate, because Hadrian had no idea where they were going).

The walk, however, was short and they reached another room full of Goblins. Faln told Hadrian to wait by the door. The Goblin wandered through the room, whispering into the ear of another Goblin who glanced at the door and paled before nearly running out of the room. Hadrian was pulled into a crushing hug.

* * *

Back in the room in the front of Gringotts, Dumbledore was getting impatient. Marvolo was getting bored. He mollified himself by casting _tempus_, realizing that not much time had actually passed. To amuse himself, he grabbed Hadrian's lineage paper, appraising his nearly perfect bloodlines.

His eye lingered on Rebecca Fawley, though. He had known the woman quite well. Ten years his junior, he had met the woman just out of Hogwarts. What James Potter was doing sleeping with a woman thirty years his senior was an interesting question. Then, his eye slipped to James Potter and nearly popped out of his head. Underneath James' name was only Hadrian Ward. James Potter Jr. was no where in sight. That bore consideration.

Eventually, his mind drifted back to Hadrian. He could not very well kill the boy, anymore. Nagini would understand, eventually. He would probably benefit from the child as an ally, anyway. There was no telling how much magic the boy could absorb. Rebecca had acquired the talents of a metamorphagus and somehow imitated Alistair Moody's fake eye. And that was only as far as Marvolo knew. So this boy had managed to imitate his parceltongue. That didn't explain his blood, but Marvolo was certain that the boy would at least have an answer. He could live with that, for now.

* * *

Dumbledore was much less serene that his partner in captivity. He had tried every trick in his rather thick book, and nothing worked. This was why he hated non-human magic. It had its own rules. And none of them trusted him either, but he never mentioned that in his arguments. It sounded too prejudiced.

He noticed when Riddle picked up the parchment, scowling at what a tremendously bad idea this whole excursion had been. He also knew that the boy was going to cause trouble. He remembered Fawley from her school days. She had been a rather distrustful girl, even if she had been in Ravenclaw, like her son. She had not been quite as brilliant as her son, but she had been substantially more clever. Dumbledore had even tried to recruit her for his Order of the Phoenix, but she had rejected the idea straight out, not even listening to his very convincing argument. It had been maddening.

It had not been helped when she had grown into one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen, and he had seen nearly every girl in wizarding Britain. Minerva McGonagall had looked up to her, still did. When she found out about her son, she was bound to be a lot nicer to the child and a little harsher on James Potter, just like all the teachers. A good many of them had known the woman. She had floated around in a multitude of social circles, her intelligence and perfect blood status opening nearly every door she came across.

Even Sirius Black had been on good terms with the woman, growing up with her as an almost aunt. She had been a charmer, as well. Her lovers had been a mixed bunch, men and women of all blood statuses, even certain muggles. Dumbledore knew that Minister Fudge had been infatuated with the woman; she had eventually had to take out a retraining order against the fool. How James Potter had become her lover, Dumbledore would forever be curious. Lily was not going to like this.

* * *

The Potter couple had been sitting down to an afternoon tea with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew at the time, chuckling about the various antics of Sirius Black. Peter had brought his wife, a young Prewitt girl, who was pregnant with their second child. The first was about five years old, and playing with the house-elves somewhere in the vast mansion that the Potter's called home.

Lily and Celia, Pettigrew's wife, were off in a corner of the room with tea, while the men were closer to the middle, drinking butterbeer. They were enjoying themselves, celebrating. James would defeat the Dark Lord and the world would finally be 'Light' again, all according to Dumbledore's plan. Pettigrew was suspiciously mum on the subject, but his friends were a bit too thick to notice.

It was a house-elf who noticed the owl, small, and tawny, pecking against the glass. Quickly, the gray creature fetched the owl. The feathered thing would not give up the letter, so Tipsy, the house-elf, brought the thing to her master. James Potter Sr.. James barely glanced at his servant, merely stretching out his hand. He was expecting a note, not the entire owl.

The owl did not fit in one hand, so it extended it's claws to hang on. James was not entirely amused at this turn of events, as one could imagine. He shrieked rather loudly. In offense, the owl pecked at him. This cycle would have continued had Lupin not had the foresight to retrieve the owl, handing the slightly bloody letter over to his friend.

The letter was simple and rather to the point:

_Lord James Potter, _

_Your presence is required at the Gringotts bank immediately. We apologize of the inconvenience._

_Sincerely, _

_Faln, Manager-in-Chief _

James blinked stupidly at the letter for a second before shrugging and handing the letter over to Lily. She read it and announced it's contents, suggesting that all of them go, for the business could not take very long, before getting some ice cream. It was readily agree to, and the group of five set out, having no idea whatsoever of what they were getting themselves into.

* * *

Just as his parents were receiving their letter, James Potter Jr. also got one. His reading of it was slightly more peaceful. When asking permission, McGonagall allowed him to take Ron and Hermione. It was, after all, a Friday. She wouldn't begrudge a group a sixth years some fun.

* * *

Another man received a letter as well, his eyebrows rising in interest. His schedule was quickly cleared, and he too headed of to Gringotts, wondering why they would summon him on such short notice.

* * *

At the strong hug, Hadrian went very still, completely unsure of how to react. The slight sobbing made it worse. There were no tears, but the Goblin shook against his body, and Hadrian felt slightly like a reed in the wind. Finally, Faln pulled the other Goblin off the boy.

"Sorry, lad. 's just tha you look so much like yer mum. I remembr tha lest time I saw 'er. Jus so sad that we could na find ya."

The Goblin spoke with a thick accent Hadrian could not identify, but assumed was Gobbledegook. While he knew it well enough, he had only heard himself speak it. Gathering up his courage, he replied in the strange language.

I take no offense, elder. I wish I could have seen my mother as you had. For the drawing, I am eternally thankful.

The Goblins froze, staring at Hadrian as though he had grown a third eye. Finally, Faln's shock morphed to respect, and the other Goblin got teary eyed.

Just like his mother, this one. He's our responsibity now, isn't, Faln.

Indeed. I believe he will fit in just fine with us, Grayhand.

They would have discussed more, but a loud chime rang out, making Faln grin rather maliciously. He beckoned for Hadrian to follow him. The human looked at Grayhand in confusion. Go, lad. I'll be here when you want to talk. Faln needs you for sorting out your new situation. Luck be with you.

The knobby Goblin patted the boy on the back before lumbering back to his seat, the grin never leaving his face. Hadrian turned around and sprinted to catch up with this Goblin guide, not wanting to be left behind in a place as confusing at this hall.

As they made their way back, Hadrian found that he didn't remember any of the landmarks. Faln assured him that this was rather normal. It required a certain type of Goblin magic to see through the enchantments that were placed should a thief make it this far back. With a clap of his hand, Faln enabled Hadrian to see through them. Still, Hadrian was barely able to recognize anything; he had paid little attention on the way there.

There was quite a crowd gathered when the two reached the main chamber of the bank. The group was ushered into the room that Dumbledore and Marvolo were in, which produced enough chairs for all gathered. The twelve humans looked at the Goblin expectantly, wanting to be updated immediately. They would soon regret that particular wish.

* * *

**A/N - I got a review asking about the pairing. It will be Voldemort/Harry. There most likely won't be anything anywhere near explicit, but it still will be slash. I frequently check, so if you have questions, just ask. Also, any other main pairings would give away the ending, so they will not be listed. **


	8. Chapter 8

As one would imagine, the assembled crowd was more than a little confused at the people they found themselves with. The two sides (Dark and Light) took up on opposite sides of the room naturally, without even consciously thinking about it. Hadrian was stuck in the middle, the awkward no-mans-land. James Jr. was shooting him looks that varied from hate to confusion.

Eventually, the Goblin took pity on the gathered mass and asked the youngest Potter to step forward and bare his hand. Potter Sr. looked confused, Lily lost all her color. Drawing blood a little less gently than he had with Hadrian, Faln repeated the process of lineage testing.

While they waited for it to take effect, he rested his elbow on the desk and smirked at Dumbledore. Hadrian stifled a giggle. Dumbledore looked so out of place, not knowing everything that was going on. When the test was complete, Faln flipped it over and placed Hadrian's face up as well, beckoning James Sr. to come look at them; the reaction was very nearly instantaneous.

He glanced at Hadrian's briefly, as if he knew what was going to be on it. It was the other family tree that he gaped at. Frantically, he searched the parchment for a mention of a Potter. Up in the generations, he caught one. Alicia Potter and Claudius Prince. Disgusted, he looked at the most recent entries. Severus Snape and Lily Potter were listed at the parents.

So preoccupied was the auror in his turmoil, he did not notice the dour potions master come up behind him and peak at the page, all at Faln's urging. His reaction was not quite so composed: the man fainted. The boy in question and his mother looked shocked between the two men. Lily collapsed heavily into the chair behind her.

Remus Lupin rushed over to help Snape. The two men were in that awkward romantic stage where they were not quite sure what to do with each other. Pettigrew wrapped an arm around his wife's waist and snuggled into her shoulder. She wacked his head half-heartedly in response. The three Gryffindor youths, unable to contain their curiosity, snuck a peak at the strange little, bloody paper that affected all of the others so much. What they saw was enough to make all three look vaguely ill.

Marvolo watched the scene with relish. Chaos in any form was fun, but it was even batter when he had to do nothing but sit back and watch the best laid plans of his enemies collapse in on themselves. Hadrian stood against the wall, as unobtrusive as he could manage, watching on in amusement. Dumbledore, the wise man he is, had managed to figure out what the paper contained and watched as his plans fell to nothing. Potential repercussions flew through his head.

Potter Sr. turned towards his wife, horror painted on his face. "Lily…"

She shook her head, not quite trusting her voice. The movement of her head caught the neglected parchment, Hadrian's. Her eyes grew wide at the listed parents, turning the accusing glare back on her husband. The ensuing verbal sparring match was loud, embarrassing, and saved their marriage, if not the two illegitimate boys.

* * *

By the time that all arguments had fallen to the wayside and silence and shock rained over the room, Hadrian was falling asleep against the wall. Lawyers had been called. As far as he could tell, Professor Snape was suing for custody of James (Jr., of course. Snape would want nothing to do with Potter Sr.), the potter couple was going to stay married (they had both cheated), and now they were all arguing about what to do with him.

The only thing that anyone could agree on with any certainty was that Hadrian was not to go back to the muggle orphanage. The Goblins had their claim; his mother had intended him to end up with them. James Potter was also bidding. Hadrian personally thought it was a bid to save face. Lord Marvolo Slytherin was even in on it, claiming that neither James nor the Goblins were good choices. Potter had not yet been cleared of guilt in abandoning Hadrian, and the Goblins were sub-human. The ministry worker was leaning his way. Dumbledore was protesting vehemently against that, pointing out that the Potter's were his rightful family.

All in all, it was a mess that Hadrian was wishing didn't have anything to do with him, but since when was he ever so lucky. At some point during the debate, James Jr. had snuck up and was staring him down. It was shocking how similar the two of them looked, especially considering the lack of blood relations. Weasley was snarling and looked mere seconds away from biting. Granger just looked contemplative, as though something was finally making sense. The mock battle ended when Dumbledore finally wandered over to the teenagers, a brilliant smile plastered on his face.

"Alright, children. Let us get you all back to Hogwarts. It has been a rather stressful day, hasn't it?"

As the group left, Faln slipped a bag to Hadrian that contained the box and other heirlooms. Dumbledore tried to confiscate it, but Hadrian and the Goblins gave him such an accusing look that he backed off. Professor Snape and Lord Slytherin followed, the Dark Lord supporting his follower across the gleaming floors of the bank. The Marauder group followed slowly behind, shocked out of their wits. Lupin was shooting worried glances at Snape, but stayed with his friends, not willing to try their loyalty just then.

The group apparated to Hogwarts where the Potter's and Hadrian were shoved into a room and told to "bond." Sighing, Hadrian took a survey, knowing this was going to be anything but pleasant. The walls were red, nearly blinding him. Soft brown furniture littered the room, almost gleaming. In the light, it looked gold. Two portraits decorated the room: one of a man flying and one of a man posing with a sword that had a ruby in it's hilt. The boy shook his head. The room was obviously made to appeal to the Potter sensibilities. He just felt left out and awkward.

Leaning against the wall and turning his attention back to his newfound family, he quirked and eyebrow. Lily Potter was sitting up rather primly on the wooden chair, while his _father_, Merlin that felt weird to say/think, was imitating his posture. Potter Jr. seemed to be moving about the room with no apparent purpose, sneaking surreptitious glances at everyone.

Groaning, Potter Sr. rubbed his face. "Well, welcome to the family, I guess."

Hadrian nodded slightly, unsure of how to respond. The man took no notice. "We shall have to get you registered, of course. Your last name need to be officially changed, and we need to get everything completed so that you become my heir."

That last little bit sent the other teenager stumbling. Hadrian himself felt a little lightheaded at the revolution. Imagine that, the penniless mudblood orphan becomes the pureblood heir to two noble houses.

Lily Potter noticeably made no argument, but turned a death glare on Hadrian. It contained so much malice that the boy looked away, fearing how she would react to a staring contest.

"But, Dad!"

"But nothing. You may have been raised as my son, but you have no Potter blood in your veins. I cannot leave you the lordship."

Lily turned her death glare on her husband and just smirked, like she had a better plan. "Then just adopt the boy, give him your blood. Then, everything will be restored to rights."

"It isn't that simple, Lily. I gave up the boy because I already had an heir. I will not deprive him a second time."

The words made Hadrian's blood run cold. James Potter had known about his existence the entire time. Knew that he had a second son. Knew that the child was living somewhere unpleasant. Probably put the babe on the orphanage steps. Hadrian felt like he was going to be sick. _He is only doing this because his pride has been wounded. Such a noble pureblood, cuckolded by his muggleborn wife. _

As the two adults stared each other down, neither willing to give up ground to compromise, the two teens looked at the other, unsure of exactly what their new situation meant. James was of the opinion that Hadrian was trying to ruin his life out of envy. Hadrian simply wanted to leave.

Luckily, they were saved when a ragged Severus Snape was pushed into the room, followed by a glowing Lord Slytherin. The Potters flinched in unison, privy to Dumbledore's suspicions.

"I hardly think it fair for young Hadrian to be the only one to become acquainted with his newly discovered father. Severus? Wouldn't you agree?"

The potions master nodded slowly, careful not to upset his lord. Smirking, Marvolo laid an arm across Hadrian's shoulder and guided the boy from the room, smirking at the four left in the room. The door slammed shut behind them, making Hadrian jump.

"Now then, we have much to discuss, you and I. The Goblins have agreed to grant me custody of you during the summers, seeing as you need to be around wizards. In addition, I have some old relics of your mother that I believe should be returned to you. She was a lovely woman. If you can not be proud of your father, at least be proud of the woman you loved you without abandon."

The Ravenclaw looked up at the Lord with admiration. The man knew his mother? Upon arrival to Marvolo's office, Hadrian was handed a cup of tea and a small bag. At Marvolo's urging, he gently emptied the contents on the desk. A ring, necklace, and small stone spilled out. The ring was a simple and thin band with a small F emblazoned on top in sapphire. The necklace was a silver chair with an ornate pendant, the Fawley family crest. The words, _Cogitationes posteriores sunt saniores, _lined the edge under an arrow wrapped in thorns. The entire crest was molded of silver and blue, glimmering like the night sky. The stone, the last relic, was grey. It fit in Hadrian's fist with room to spare, but it was warm. The feel of it against his palm soothed Hadrian, taking away his worry and fear.

Marvolo watched as the boy in front of him carefully handled the objects, observing how he relaxed when the stone touched his bare skin. He had helped to make it when Rebecca had found out she would not survive the birth. It was infused with her love and care, with her intent to shelter her young child from the world. The spell was a dark one and illegal. It was, thankfully, untraceable once complete.

The reveries of both men were broken when two blonds came crashing through the door. To be truthful, it was only one blond that went crashing through the door, the other entered slowly and with reverence, as though afraid to annoy the occupant. Luna had no such reservations, and sprinted to Hadrian, wrestling him into a powerful hug.

Draco tentatively approached, nodded on by Marvolo. He gave Hadrian an awkward pat on the back before Luna dragged him into the hug, as well. Marvolo watched in amusement at the sight, three teenagers in a group hug. He had never displayed such a lack of propriety, but he supposed he would allow it, today. He had made Lucius inform his son of Hadrian's new situation and assumed the boy had informed the Lovegood girl, as well.

When he was sure that the three were quite done with their public display of affection, he sent them away smiling as congenially as he could. Based on the shivers, he assumed he had not yet mastered it.

The three teenagers strolled through the halls, not quite sure how to start the conversation they knew they needed to have. Draco was the first to stop, holding up the group. "Better listen well, this may well be the only time I say this. Sorry, Harry, for calling you a mudblood."

His two companions stood there, dumbstruck. A Malfoy apologized? Luna snapped out of it to giggle delightedly. Hadrian had to be hit over the head to snap out of it. Graciously, he accepted the apology, still mildly stunned. On their way to the kitchens (Hadrian had missed dinner), Pansy and Blaise ambushed them, intent on finding out what they could. At the news of Hadrian's lineage, Pansy cackled wickedly, detailing everything she could now do to Potter. Blaise ruffled Hadrian's hair and informed him that the two were now cousins.

The House Elves were delighted to serve the five students, very nearly throwing the food at them. Hadrian was force fed more than he would have liked, but it was a party of sorts and he had enough reason to celebrate. As the whole encounter and story slipped out, his friends reacted in awe and defense of Hadrian. He had never felt so much that he belonged, and somehow it was a nice feeling, one akin to the rock Lord Slytherin had given him.


	9. Chapter 9

At breakfast the next morning both Gryffindor and Slytherin had heard the news. Aside from his two friends, James Potter was surrounded by empty places. The Slytherins were making it worse by catcalling the boy, offering jesting friendships. Ginny looked torn. Everyone knew that her and Blaise were an item, but the Zabinis were different. It was common knowledge that his mother was strongly neutral and despised Death Eaters.

Severus Snape was a different story all together. The most hated of the teaching staff, not even his whole house liked the man. Greasy and dour, the man was supposedly the Dark Lord's right hand man. For the boy who embodied the Gryffindor spirit to be the son of the Slytherin Bat… It was an outrage few could stand. The youngest Weasley knew that a grossly exaggerated version of the story would be out before the day was done. She spared a glance for Harry, noticing that he seemed oddly composed.

* * *

James Potter Jr. was having a terrible morning. It had all started last night, after that conniving little bookworm had been dragged out and Snape thrown in. What little color the Potions Master naturally had had returned, and that twisted sneer was marring his features once again. The three adults had created a rather tangible tension, one that imprisoned the younger boy, keeping him in his seat. That, however, had been far better than the shouting match, which erupted after the mounting tension reached a head.

Snape had shouted his intentions to have some claim on him, while his mother had sat silently by. His father (no so much anymore, he supposed) had answered that he would not subject a boy he raised to the cruelty of being under the care of a "slimy serpent." No conclusion had even been in sight by the time Dumbledore had come in to send James Jr. to bed.

Now, the entire school was shunning him. Ron had not said anything, but he was sending skittish looks every few minutes. Hermione was avoiding eye contact, absorbed in her book on bloodlines. Nothing actually happened, though, until Hadrian entered the hall.

* * *

The little Ravenclaw entered the hall with Luna by his side. Neither of them were so naïve as to believe there would not be a fight, but they still hoped to avoid it. Unfortunately, they arrived late to breakfast and were very nearly ambushed. It was Luna who caught the trick and returned the stinging hexes to the Gryffindor trio. Hadrian stood blinking, not quite fully aware of everything.

Shaking her head, Luna guided her friend to their table. Her reflexes were needed throughout the entire meal, catching bits of dropped food and stopping the boy from falling of the bench. She even hauled her companion all the way to his first class, where Draco took over. Severus Snape, it appeared, was also not quite aware of his surroundings.

Potions class was simple. Everyone was too nervous to engage in the typical shenanigans that normally occurred during the period. The only time Snape broke out of his mental haze was to snap at his students. Within ten seconds of the bell ringing no one remained in the class.

The rest of the day passed quickly and Hadrian was very nearly back to normal by the time dinner came around. As the students sat down to the meal, James Potter burst in, still dressed in his work robes.

He walked quickly up to Hadrian before grabbing the child's arms and bodily dragging him into one of the chambers just off the Great Hall. Once alone, Hadrian was released only for James to grasp his shoulders and stare into the boy's eyes.

"You look like her, just like your mother. I suppose I owe you an apology."

Hadrian nodded dumbly, shocked and curious. "I suppose you do, Sir."

"You don't have to call me Sir, Hadrian. James will suffice for now. I met your mother about a month before Lily gave birth. I was a Ministry Ball and she was talking to Lucius Malfoy. I saw her from across the room, a woman old enough to be my mother, but beautiful enough to make everyone else in the room fade in comparison. She was mature and smart, her smile made the room easier and more confortable; her scowl set everyone on edge.

"I wandered around the room, aimless and alone, always sneaking peaks when I could. At some point we were introduced and I was smitten. Its no excuse, I will admit. I was a married man with my first child on the way. She was unattached but aged. She was clever though, and made me laugh. She reminded me of my own youth, something I lost a bit when I learned of my impending fatherhood. Before I left that night, she gave me a kiss on the forehead. Nothing important, but it was a piece of romance my life had been lacking.

"We met up later, and I never told her Lily was pregnant. We were hiding it, because of Voldemort and the prophecy, you understand. She thought the two of use were fighting and that I needed comfort. Our affair lasted all of a week before she became bored of me. We stayed in contact, but she cut me off entirely when she found out about James. At that time, though, she would have just found out about you.

"That March, I got an anonymous owl informing me that I would soon have a son. The night I finally found her, though, she was dead. When I identified myself as the father, you were put in my arms. You were smaller than James had been, quieter, too. You stared at me and I was ashamed. I knew Lily would never accept you. I also knew that, as my son, you would be a potential target. The safest option was to leave you as I did. It wasn't right, but there wasn't another option," the man finished tersely.

Hadrian felt tears in his eyes as he pushed the man off him. His heart thudded heavily in his chest. Images flashed before his eyes, the bullies and the pain from growing up alone. The tormentors at Hogwarts and the harsh words that came from being an orphaned mudblood. _And this man thinks he did the right thing. _

Schooling his features became impossible as the pain built up. It pooled in his stomach, his hands, and his head. James was slammed into a wall as unchecked power flowed off his child. Hadrian fell to his knees, cradling his head, tears running unchecked.

* * *

Everyone's favorite Dark Lord had stayed at Hogwarts, considering the outcome of yesterday's events. Obviously the new prophecy meant someone new. Of course, there was a possibility that the Potters both still counted as parents and the insufferable brat would have to be won over or die. It meant that new candidates had to be found.

Slytherin was pouring over student records when a blast of solid magic hit him, potent and arousing. He breathed in deeply, wondering who or what could cause such a wave. Slowly and with some difficulty, he stood up and maneuvered his way to the door. Students in varying stages of awareness lay haphazardly about the hall. He cautiously followed the aftershocks and barged in without knocking.

He smirked cruelly before comforting the sobbing Hadrian. The wet green jewels sparkling up at him took his breathe away, and he had to concentrate to not let his own ruby color sneak through. Contorting his face in his patented glare he turned it full force on Potter.

"What did you do, you insufferable man?"

"What did I do?" came the outraged reply. "I did nothing but tell him about his mother! He had to through a temper tantrum."

Marvolo cackled cruelly. "You sent his magic into distress. And what would you know of his mother, anyhow? You were one of her many flings. That she got a child out of it has nothing really to do with you. She didn't even tell you about him yourself."

Potter paled at that and looked away, refusing to make eye contact. Sneering, Marvolo helped the child to stand and slowly guided him out of the room into the waiting arms of that Ravenclaw girl the boy was friends with. Dumbledore scurried in to make sure that his pawn was okay, but most everyone else left. Lord Slytherin himself made a dramatic exit, nodding at Flitwick and leaving the small professor in charge of the aftermath of the chaos.


End file.
